


Psychobabble

by Azia



Series: ∞ [2]
Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: (Thanks Again Korekiyo), Additional Warnings May Apply, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Graphic Depictions of Illness, Implied/Referenced Incest, M/M, Psychological Torture, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-02-19
Packaged: 2019-02-27 06:27:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 33,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13242396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azia/pseuds/Azia
Summary: Exploring the concussion complex. (Let’s get brainsick.)





	1. BEGIN

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [to the head](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13234986) by [nauticalwarrior](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nauticalwarrior/pseuds/nauticalwarrior). 



> the main reason why i am saying that _to the head_ inspired this is because i am reusing the idea in that fic of when kokichi says that if he were to die of his head injury then he would kill himself to eliminate any controversy that could arise over deciding if his death was an accident or korekiyo's fault during a class trial. i felt like i would be outright stealing if i didn't give credit where it was due. ♡
> 
> and **_kriegspiel_ does not have to be read to understand this**. this is not a series of stories that must be read together, but a collection of stories that connect and reference each other.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> imreallyreallylonely.  
> 脳 | _brain, mind, memory_.  
>  脳震盪 ( _nōshintō_ , lit. _concussion_ )
> 
> symptoms include: headaches, loss of consciousness, ringing in ears, nausea and vomiting, fatigue, blurred vision, irritability, unsteady walking, memory problems, sleep disturbances.

The funny thing was the feeling of “falling” didn’t register until it was too late. In one blink of the eye Kokichi was fine, just investigating the vacant rooms on a simple hunch, and the next his leg was going _through_ the floor and— _crash_. He was on the next floor down.

The shock must have caused the late reaction. That empty jumping feeling a person always got in the pit of their stomach whenever a roller coaster was going up, up, up and came down, down, down too fast or when an elevator was made of glass and it descended just a little too quickly so it was easy to picture all the glass shattering and cutting into the skin if fell just a little too hard or when an airplane jolted off to a rocky start and it was easy to imagine it tipping backwards and crashing right back on to the runway. That empty feeling didn’t come until he collided right on to the ground below.

And – not like it mattered, though – because it was such a late reaction, the thought to even put his hands out to somehow even do some type of pitiful attempt to catch himself didn’t even come to mind. His chest and, most unfortunately, his head took the entirety of the impact – _the fallen floorboards slammed against his head with the force of a swinging fucking baseball bat;_ fuck, he literally _feel_ his brain _shift_ and pound against his fucking _skull_ ; _it hurts, it hurts, it hurts_ – and he was out cold instantaneously.

Maybe “out cold” was too strong. Maybe he had been knocked out before. Maybe not. He didn’t know if he was supposed to hear voices upon losing consciousness, so Kokichi guessed that he wasn’t. The forest that was his mind had definitely nosedived into some type of foggy place that it had never been in before though.

“I-Is… that Oum—?”

_Shuichi?_

“…Who else could it be?”

_Maki?_

Weird. The first voice made what he could only describe as a warm tingle go down his spine while the second sent a cool one. It was like the fog in his brain had been corrupted for only a moment to just make the caveman-like, mechanical process of “Shuichi good, Maki bad” – like it was reminding him or something. Like it was reminding him or something…

“I-I—Ouma-kun, is he—?”

 _No, no, no_. That voice that had brought on a warm response was starting to bring on a cooler, anxious one. Kokichi didn’t want to hear it anymore, feel the slimy shudder it was giving him anymore.

So, through the fog and the pain and the haze, he picked his head up (felt like being submerged underwater for hours and trying to claw up to the surface but someone was steadily putting weights on the top of your head) and forced his eyes open (felt like his eyelids were super glued together and the adhesive was splitting his skin apart the more he tried to open them).

Hot, sticky blood was dripping down the bridge of his nose and cheeks, over his eyelids and getting tangled into his eyelashes. It was a bitch to see, but he could make out two wavering figures ahead of him, looking down at him. It practically took the entire strength of his aching body to do it, but he upturned the corners of his lips to form the widest grin that he could muster up – and he could feel blood drip down from his cheeks and try to seep inside of his mouth – and choked out, “Just kidding—it’s a lie~!” (His tone was supposed to be oozing with his trademark cheekiness, but it _hurt_ , it hurt just to _talk_.)

He had to blink a few times to focus on them. He blamed it on the blood blocking his vision. Maki’s… mouth was moving but no sound was coming out. Kokichi took it as an opportunity to try and stand up. His body screamed in protest, especially his head and his chest, but the threat of not being able to get up and go to the upcoming trial loomed over him, the threat of punishment for not showing up, and made him scramble to get to his feet quicker. It was weird, like a baby deer trying to keep upright while walking across a frozen pond, but he could manage. A little fall wasn’t going to stop him from—

“—you listening?” Suddenly Maki wasn’t so out of focus anymore. And she looked annoyed. And Shuichi looked _worried_ , so Kokichi focused on Maki’s face. He could work with annoyed, he was familiar with it.

“Y-Yeah! _Totally_ listening.” He stuck a laugh at the end too, like that was going to make their voices clearer.

“W-What happened?” On second thought, maybe it was better when their voices weren’t clear. Shuichi’s voice was _killing_ him and maybe there was something about getting the little bump in the head that was amplifying that concerned and nervous tone in Shuichi’s voice and Kokichi _hated_ it. It almost made him want to crawl back underneath the wooden rubble to get away from it.

“I…” What _was_ he doing? Kokichi would like to know too. “S-Sorry. The blood loss is making me kinda dizzy.” Someone else started talking. He didn’t see anyone though. Oh. It was Monokuma. Oh. The trial was about to start. At least that cut Maki and Shuichi’s interrogation off short, for better or for worse. But… through the mental fog, there was a memory though. It just suddenly appeared, like someone else had stuffed it into his head. Kokichi absentmindedly pulled out a book from his back pocket. _Oh_. “I… the séance. I wanted to investigate something about it.”

“What about it?” Kokichi would have loved to answer Maki’s question, but he couldn’t. But he could try to get away from it though.

“I dunno. Harukawa-chan will just have to find out later. See you guys at the trial!” Right. The exit was to the right. Most likely. Anywhere to escape Shuichi’s _worried face_ at this point.

Walking was worse than talking. Figures. It was like trying to walk on stilts. _Right leg, left leg, right leg, left leg_. The process of just trying to _walk_ made him feel like a toddler all over again, all too-soft knees that couldn’t bear weight and zero coordination and feet that weren’t accustomed to balancing quite yet. And Kokichi hated to admit it, but he was a pretty light guy, probably less than one-hundred pounds soaking wet – maybe even less because killing games kinda ruin a guy’s appetite, but if _he_ was feeling like his legs couldn’t support his weight than he was… _fucked_ for the lack of a better word. Absolutely, positively fucked.

Kokichi initially wanted to hurry as to not give Shuichi and Maki the chance to catch up to him, but it looked like that wasn’t an option. By the time he had finally reached the stairway, they were already behind him. They weren’t walking down though. They were at the first step and just looking at him, Maki with an eyebrow raised, Shuichi with a growing frown. “What? What do you two want? It’s time to start the trial, right?” Kokichi tried to dot the edges of his sentence with another smile but it came out more as a wince. And practically hanging on to the railing of the stairway didn’t exactly help his cause either. He couldn’t even look down at the stairs without them winding and getting farther and closer away. He might as well been at the edge of the rabbit’s hole.

“What do we want?” Maki scoffed. “ _You’re_ the one blocking the stairs.”

“Is that so?” Kokichi looked down at the stairs again. A few spots of blood – _his_ blood – had dripped on to the railing and the top step.

“Ah, Ouma-kun, if you need help—?”

“Thanks but no thanks, Saihara-chan. I got it.” Just one foot at a time. Baby steps – literally. _Careful not to slip and fall on your own blood and hit your head again_.

It probably took a billion years in real time, but he did it. He managed to walk down five entire steps by himself before an arm was slung over his shoulder and he was being guided downstairs like he was a fucking old lady that needed help crossing the street. But he was worse than an old lady that needed help crossing the street. He had fell from an entire floor up and needed help going four floors down. And Shuichi being the one to help was the real challenge. It was already kind of hard to breathe, and with the other so close it was making his breaths just a little bit shallower. He was too close and it was too soon and there was too much going on. Kokichi had never been so relieved in his life to be in the courtyard.

Kokichi tried to throw Shuichi’s arm off of him but it came out more as him taking a slow sidestep away from the other’s presence. And he tried to say something that would give out a “begrudged” vibe but it came out as a simple “Thank you” that accidentally leaked gratefulness and wasn’t followed up by the typical snarky comment that he loved so much.

Shuichi didn’t hide one ounce of his surprise when he said, “Y-You’re welcome…?”

If the forest of his mind was shrouded with a fog of just sheer fucked-up-ness, then the light drizzle that was beginning to pour down dampened everything down with unadulterated nervousness. Why did he feel like a foreigner in his own body? Why wasn’t he acting like himself or feeling like himself anymore?

 _Because you’re concussed, idiot_.

Concussed.

Concussed…

That would mean Kokichi would have to take extra measures to take care of himself. (If Kirumi was still around then she would have taken care of him – and then probably would have slit his throat as he was completely incapacitated.) And now he had to face a class trial with double the murders and possibly double the culprits to catch while he wasn’t at his sharpest. And, the book… He pulled it out of his pocket again and looked it over as the elevator descended. Ah, yes. The book. He had only managed to come up with one hint to give Shuichi for the trial. A sense of clinical disappointment spread throughout his already aching chest. He usually prepared at least two or three hints for Shuichi and it probably was his excitement to gather double the hints for the double murder circumstance that made him not watch his step.

∴

Kokichi usually paid more attention during investigations than trials because investigations laid out the foundation for the trials for some, but it painted out the entire blueprint for him.

So, at least he could take his typical stance of not really paying attention and saving his comments for whenever something vaguely interesting happened (usually coming from Shuichi) or when the discussion inevitably went awry. For now the bloodstains on his jacket sleeve from when he had tried to wipe at the gash on his forehead was more interesting – up until Shuichi’s voice drew his focus back in on the trial about how not only could Angie’s Student Council members could have gone into her lab, but Kokichi could too because of his lock picking skills.

“Hurt” registered into his mind. _Why would Saihara-chan say such mean things?_ Kokichi leaned against his podium and stared at the aforementioned detective for a moment. Why did he feel “hurt” so easily exactly? _Because you like him more than the rest. Because you don’t want him to think badly of you if it’s not on your terms._ Oh.

Nobody was talking. Oh. They were all waiting for a response.

“I _can_ pick locks. Saihara-chan is absolutely right.” Kokichi shrugged it off (and pain immediately shot through his shoulders at lightning speed). “Yeah… I killed Angie-chan.” And he knew what such a wild statement would result in but he still wasn’t ready. Pandemonium erupted from his fellow entrapped inmates – but they were talking _too loud_ and it was _too much_ and Kokichi’s ears were fucking _hissing_. He wanted to cover his ears, hide away, but he couldn’t. A flustered, “S-Shut up!” still spilled out from his lips. He tried to patch it up by saying, “I mean… don’t act so surprised. I just thought if I confessed to killing Angie-chan quickly then I could atone for my sins or whatever.” He didn’t dare try to shrug again.

Shuichi was still looking at him, prying into him with his ever so careful eyes. After two trials and a lot of free time in between spent together, Kokichi still wasn’t sure if he liked being scrutinized by him or not. To put it frankly, being looked up and down was nice but being picked apart piece by piece was not.

“You’re lying.” Kokichi let out a breath. “Because the culprit used another method in order to lock the _back_ door to Angie-san’s lab—not by picking the front door shut.” (But even after Shuichi’s deduction and dismissal of his lie, Kokichi could still feel his eyes on him.)

Back to not paying attention. But it was interjected with something new: Kokichi was tired. He should have figured that he was heading in that direction once he got to the point where he had to set his elbow against his podium and lean his head against his hand just to hold it up. Still, through the sleepy haze he caught Himiko’s words: “P-Poor… Poor Chabashira. W-Why did this have to happen to her? C-Could we… Could we just go over her case—?”

“No.” Kokichi couldn’t even suppress a yawn. “Chabashira-chan’s case is meaningless right now. We have to focus on Angie-chan’s case—Monokuma-chan’s new rule says it’s all about finding the first culprit.” He wished that he wasn’t next to Himiko. He could hear her gasp and sputter.

“How _dare_ you say that about Chabashira?! H-How could you say that she doesn’t matter? We need to know what happened to her too, not just Angie!” And, Kokichi didn’t know what, but there was _something_ about her words that crawled directly underneath his skin. _That’s never happened before. What the fuck…?_

But he just felt so _angry_ and it was so sudden and the words just slipped out: “You didn’t give two shits about Chabashira when she was alive, so just shut the fuck up already! Stop it with the shitty lying—for fuck’s sake, I’m sick and tired of it. Now that she’s dead you want to be all ‘ooh no, boohoo, poor Chabashira.’ What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Dead silence blanketed the courtroom. He didn’t even give Tenko’s name an honorific – how… what…

“Ouma-kun!” Gonta broke the silence first. “Do _not_ speak to Yumeno-san like that! That is not how a gentleman acts!” Out of all people, Gonta was the _last_ person to get mad at, but it happened again – the other’s words felt like rusty nails were being hammered in between his fingernails.

“C’mon—it’s obviously just a ploy by the culprit to lead the discussion away from what’s important. There’s literally no _fucking point_ in talking about Chabashira-chan.”

Miu seemed to find that funny. “Hey, Adolf Tickler, are ya mad right now or somethin’? Is it because of your Napoleon complex? It affects ya from your height right down to your dick, right?” Spit was even coming out of her mouth as she cackled her little heart away. “Shorties with _shorties_ are always gettin’ pissed off for no reason!”

“You can shut up too, Iruma-chan. I don’t remember allowing your dirty, filthy, good for nothing but choking on her own spit and shit, pig snorting mouth to speak.”

“D-D-Dirty _and_ f-filthy?” At least a warm tingle went down his spine as he watched Miu shrink away. “That’s… kinda redundant… b-b-but whatever…”

“Uuuugh.” Kokichi slumped back against his podium. “See? It’s already happening. We’re getting off topi—”

“Naw, Yumeno is right!” Kaito’s booming voice was already a headache, listening to it when just hearing a pin drop was nearly equivalent to listening to jets take off was excruciating. Kokichi whined into the crook of his arm. “We can’t just fucking leave Chabashira behind, we have to talk about her too!” _This is exactly what the culprit wants_ , was at the tip of Kokichi’s tongue, but obviously no one was going to listen to him. It didn’t matter how much logic he could spew out, Kaito’s declarations always cemented among everyone as law no matter how idiotic they were.

Kaito further invigorated a discussion about Tenko instead of Angie – and Kokichi’s unfounded anger had thankfully subsided into something more like annoyance and frustration, but his tiredness was getting worse and worse. He couldn’t even keep his eyes open.

He stifled another yawn into his sleeve (the non-bloodied one). He just had to accept the fact that he was succumbing completely to his fatigue. And he deserved a break too. He felt like absolute shit. “O~kay, do what you want. Wake me up when everyone decides to be smart for once and talk about things that _actually_ matter.” Kokichi fell asleep right against his podium.

∴

Kokichi’s nap was unfortunately short lived. Waking up was a hassle. At least his ears were a little more open than his eyes for the time being. Kokichi quickly gathered that everyone was beginning to pin down Himiko as the culprit. How exciting for once, something that was both immediately suspicious at the beginning of the trial but still managed to hold an ironic twist. He could give some kudos for that.

Something didn’t sit right within Kokichi though. Maybe he shouldn’t have fallen asleep in the middle of the trial? Maybe it was the fact that his brain had literally tapped against his skull about an hour ago and he was being forced to function as a “normal” human being? A little bit of both. Just… was Himiko being declared as the culprit a conclusion that Kokichi wanted, one that he foresaw, one that he was okay with? Sure, he had suspected her from the get-go and even snapped at her (albeit unintentionally), but… something wasn’t sitting right in his chest, and the lingering effect of the wind being knocked out of his lungs or the bruise that was surely purpling over his breastbone by the minute wasn’t making it any better.

“I-It’s Ouma!!” Himiko shouted. Kokichi spared a glance at her. Her face was getting all ugly and red. That was new. “Y-You all can’t just suspect me just because I picked the middle room! Shinguji, Ouma, and Saihara all knew about the ritual beforehand _and_ Ouma has had the ritual book this whole time! He even has it right now!” _How did she know that?_ Kokichi had only shown Shuichi and Maki that he had the book and he didn’t recall them mentioning it at any point. Unless they mentioned it when he was asleep, but what was the point of it being brought up in the first place…? “H-He knows more about the ritual than everybody else! He could’ve used the magic circle against us!” _…What?_

Now all eyes were on him. And it wasn’t long until all fingers were pointed to him too.

Kokichi rolled his eyes and nestled further into his arms. “You all are really gonna believe that? That was the weakest attack in the wooorld.” He wasn’t even going to give Himiko or anyone else the time of day for that.

But everyone else was so _unrelenting_.

“Nah, I don’t think it’s weak. Makes a lot of fucking sense when you put two and two together actually.”

“Yes. Maybe your strategy was to kill Chabashira and then let us incorrectly believe that you had killed Yonaga also.”

“You better not go back to fucking sleep, Ouma Koshitchi! What the fuck do you have to say to that?!”

“I say…” Kokichi actually really didn’t have anything to say for once. Coming up with comebacks took too much brain power and he was running exceptionally low. It was probably best to just let it breeze over. Shuichi could take care of that. Except, Shuichi wasn’t taking care of it. He had gotten used to the other’s almost omnipresent gaze as the trial trailed on – he figured that Shuichi was still feeling gross things like “worry” and “concern” or “pity” over him – but the presence of his eyes had suddenly turned into something _scorching_.

Shuichi wouldn’t stop staring. Everyone’s voices were getting more and more stupidly accusatory and louder and louder and it was scrambling Kokichi’s mind and that sickening hissing and popping noise was back and it was too much, _too much, too much, too much_ —

“Ooh look, Sleeping Beauty’s finally back in the land of the living and ready to re-participate in the Apocalyptic Academy’s exciting class trial!”

“W-What?” Kokichi was… up in the air. They had already reached the midpoint of the trial when their opinions were split? How long had he been asleep? And before…? That was all just a super realistic dream? _That’s not good._ Kokichi tried his best to sit up, which was even more difficult when your podium was about twenty feet up in the air.

“What, do you prefer me to call it ‘High School of the Dead’? I thought the OG title _Apocalyptic Academy_ fit the theme better. I mean, we’re all victims of localization mistranslation construe-lation. _Especially_ you.” Monokuma was still as insufferable and nonsensical as usual. “Okay, Ouma-kun, I’m in a good mood today so I’ll make it up to you!” Kokichi just noticed that his podium was in the middle of the debate, directly in front of Monokuma’s throne. Everyone else’s podiums, from the living to the dead, were lined up on either side of him, all looking at him, all waning anxious as they waited, waited, waited. “The question of the day is: is it time for vote for Shinguji-kun yet?”

Kokichi took a quick second to glance back at the sides again. Shuichi _and_ Korekiyo were on the same side. That was probably an easy deduction to make unless Kokichi had missed the turn of the century while he was asleep and (lucidly dreaming about being the culprit). “That’s the stupidest question I’ve ever heard.” Kokichi kept his tone light and fluffy but held on to dear life to his podium. Monokuma was definitely not the gentlest of creatures and was most likely going to swing Kokichi to whatever side was appropriate and the last thing he needed was whiplash on top of a probable concussion. “It’s not time to vote for Shinguji-chan yet~!” And, just as expected, Kokichi was swung over to the side with Shuichi, Korekiyo, and Kiibo.

At the end of the day though, it didn’t really matter which side Kokichi was on. He was really just making it easier on himself by choosing Shuichi’s side. It didn’t take a genius to pick up on the fact that Shuichi had always been on the winning side of each split decision for the past class trials. Maybe… Bottom line: it was something that was admittedly admirable about Shuichi, him being able to always come out on top. Kokichi leaned back against his podium.

“B-But…” Kokichi’s ears perked up at the sound of Gonta’s voice. “Shinguji-kun killed Chabashira-san. Isn’t he the Blackened?” That one statement was all that Kokichi needed to catch up. So Korekiyo _did_ kill Tenko. And now they were deciding whether or not to vote for him before properly discovering Angie’s killer most likely. _Stupid, stupid, stupid._

“Just because Shinguji-chan killed Chabashira-chan, doesn’t mean he killed Angie-chan too.” Maybe. Whatever. Kokichi did his part. Even if he was on the other side, he would’ve been able to cook up a lie to keep things going. The flow of the trial had already been disrupted enough with everyone discussing Tenko’s death to the point that they had to have an entire scrum debate about it. Anything goes to keep everything going.

As expected, Shuichi’s side won. They were all lowered to the ground. The podium had become a better support system than Kokichi’s own legs at this point. And everyone was speaking normally, not yelling. It wasn’t the best lullaby, but the fog around Kokichi’s head still grew heavier and heavier. He could already feel his eyes beginning to droop shut again…

“—gie-san’s blood was at Chabashira-san’s crime scene.” _Shuichi_. Shuichi’s voice had its highs and lows. He used to be a stammering mess in the beginning, but now – especially during trials – he sounded so much more confident. It was so _nice_ to listen to, to fall asleep to. “There’s a possibility that Angie-san wasn’t killed in her research lab.”

_Hint, hint, hint!_

Oh. It was Kokichi’s cue already?

Kokichi refolded his arms so he could properly prop his head up. “Exactly~! I figured that Angie-chan wasn’t killed inside of her lab, so that’s why I went to places that I thought she would go to before she died.”

“Was… that why you were checking the vacant rooms?”

“Mhm! I couldn’t think of anywhere else she would go.” The hint was presented with less vigor than Kokichi would have liked but it was still effective nonetheless. It was a good thing he looked up as he said it, or else he would have missed a legendary sight: a pissed off Shinguji Korekiyo.

“Ouma-kun seems to be up to his usual misleading nonsense again.” Korekiyo waved one his hands but it was trembling.

“Ooh,” Kokichi wished that it didn’t hurt to laugh at that, “ _someone_ seems a little upset now that I said that.” Korekiyo was quickly shaping up to be the culprit for both Angie and Tenko’s murders – how boring of a conclusion. Kokichi might as well allow himself to fall asleep again.

But it was strange. There was the kind of tired like how every student felt when they inevitably nodded off in class, when it felt like there was a string attached to the back of the head and sometimes it will slowly pull back and try to drag you into the realm of sleeping but you were able to fight against it, maybe even snap it in half. The pull on the back of Kokichi’s head now felt like a steel rope just suddenly swooping down and attaching against him. He didn’t even have an opportunity to fight.

Kokichi gave Shuichi hints for a reason. (A reason that escaped his mind at the moment, but that wasn’t important.) The hint that he had just supplied – although it was disappointing because it was just a single one and couldn’t be given in the typical Ouma Kokichi grand fashion – was monumental though and would lead to the truth behind the case: that each of the vacant rooms were prepared beforehand and that Angie was murdered in one. Shuichi was going to find the answer easy peasy, lemon squeezy because he trus— _you trust him_?

 _Trustworthy? Trustworthy? Trustworthy?_ Kokichi had written as much underneath the picture of Shuichi on the whiteboard in his room. And being sick wasn’t going to help find the answer to that question at all.

∴

Korekiyo’s yells of desperation, especially when he switched between his normal voice and his “sister’s” voice, were particularly unpleasant – perhaps even up there with the most unpleasant things that Kokichi had ever heard alongside Miu’s laugh and Kaito’s _everything_.

But there was something about Shuichi’s never faltering tone, how he never raised his voice, was always so calm and maybe it could be taken far enough to say that it was _poised_ , that actually soothed the ringing in Kokichi’s ears, prompted him to stay awake for just a little while longer to witness the trial’s conclusion firsthand instead of just zoning out until it was voting time.

∴

Korekiyo was talking a lot. Wasn’t it time for his execution? Did the culprit usually give weird speeches before their executions…? Kokichi couldn’t even begin to recall. He turned away slightly from the “excitement” to think. There had been two trials, two executions, two killers before. He remembered that much. Both of the killers were girls. The first one had hurt Shuichi in some way… but he couldn’t remember _how_ or _why_ he even thought that in the first place.

… _No_.

Hopefully everyone was too preoccupied with whatever Korekiyo was saying to notice how Kokichi’s eyes uncontrollably widened in cold realization.

The monitors that always came down whenever there was an execution were already descending, and Korekiyo was being dragged away. It was just another execution, Kokichi had watched two before but… he didn’t recall ever being sick during them. He wasn’t sure whether it was because he just couldn’t remember or if it was simply true. The past didn’t matter because all of the screens were blurring together and his knees were growing more and more wobbly and the unmistakable symptoms of nausea were taking over. Churning stomach, how the mouth watered in anticipation. Of course there was something about being forced to watch Korekiyo being dumped inside of a cauldron of boiling water and seeing the under lids of his eyes ooze blood and his skin redden and blister and ooze—it was like watching pigs’ feet being stewed, but it was a _human_ and _God_ , why was Kokichi so averse to this all of a sudden?

That didn’t matter. What mattered was that Kokichi needed to puke. But, problem: he can’t vomit in the courtroom in front of everyone, especially Shuichi. He still had a little bit of a reputation to uphold and a little bit of dignity left. The easiest solution was to leave the courtroom.

So, Kokichi left the courtroom. Mid-execution. Something that was most likely unprecedented.

He didn’t see if anyone was looking at him, didn’t hear if anyone called after him. The elevator doors were already closing.

∴

It was embarrassing. Humiliating. From stumbling through the courtyard and inside of the Academy to having to use the restroom on the first floor because Kokichi couldn’t make it to his own room and bathroom in the dormitory to having to vomit to the point that his head was pulsating and he was getting dizzier and dizzier.

 _Fuck_. Fuck Korekiyo and his stupid fucking floorboards and his “sister” and his plan. Fuck all murderers, they were all the scum of the earth. Just _fuck_. Fuck, fuck, fuck. _What if he fucking dies from this?_ Kokichi took his head out from the cradle he made with his arms and leaned back against the stall door. He wanted to cry but that was the last thing he should be doing, working himself up and being a baby about everything. He was going to be fine.

Fine. He knows concussions – and he decided to officially deem what he had as a “concussion” because that was only logical – and he had a very small chance of it turning into anything too serious. Nothing insane was going to happen. He was going to be fine in a couple of weeks tops. He was just going to have to deal with it as best as he could for now.

∴

There was a knock on the door. If Kokichi had the strength, he would have sat straight up in his bed. For some reason he felt nervous, and that was like him and unlike him at the same time. No one had ever knocked on his door before except for… when it’s time to eat…?

He lost his balance and almost fell completely off the bed. Shit, what if he hit his head on one of the boxes he had lying around? Having a room like his was probably not the best thing. A landfill had quickly become a landmine with another accident just waiting to happen.

“Hm?” Kokichi allowed himself to frown. “What’s Saihara-chan doing here? And why the long face?”

“Ah, um…” Shuichi looked off to the side for a moment. “You had just ran out of the courtroom all of a sudden so I came to ask if you were okay. Are you still feeling bad from earlier?”

“Nope~! I feel perfectly fine!” Shuichi looked at him again. Shuichi was supposed to be the transparent one and Kokichi the opaque one, but sometimes it did feel like their roles reversed at the worst times.

“I-I…” Shuichi took in a slow breath. “Is it okay if I… watched after you, j-just to make sure that you really are okay?” That was weird. Fluttery feelings in the heart weird that mixed in a little too well with Kokichi’s lingering headache. Ah. That’s right. Kokichi knew that if he agreed then he would end up teetering off the edge of his stupid feelings for the other boy, and he was already hurt physically, he didn’t need the pain to spread into an emotional territory too. Kokichi’s emotions were the one thing that he thought he had control over in the killing game but meeting Shuichi had quickly disproven that (of course he would remember something stupid like that). The only thing that he truly had one-hundred percent control over was lying to others and not to himself. (But just because he promised not to lie to himself doesn’t mean that he couldn’t hide the truth from himself.)

“Thanks but no thanks, Saihara-chan. I can take care of myself.” Kokichi was ready to shut the door in his face but the expression that Shuichi had was getting unbearable. Unbearable as in his eyebrows were furrowed together and his lips were drawing more into a pout that had to be subconscious. “Ugh, fine, whatever. I’ll let Saihara-chan do whatever he wants as long as he gets that ugly look off his face.”

Shuichi, ever the weirdo, actually thanked Kokichi before telling him to turn off the lights and saying he’ll be back.

∴

Shuichi came back with water and food that must have been from dinner or something. Kokichi couldn’t remember if they usually ate after trials. He watched from his bed as Shuichi set the water down on the nightstand before shoving some boxes aside so he could pull out the chair from the desk on the other side of the bed. The food was going to have to be abandoned on the desk for now. Kokichi didn’t have much of an appetite.

“Did you go to sleep after you left the courtroom?” Shuichi asked.

“Nope.” Kokichi said the word in English and even popped his lips around the “p.” Shuichi shook his head at that.

“You’re a… funny guy.”

“Oh yeah? You really think so? I mean, I _am_ secretly the Ultimate Comedian for a reason.”

“No, not because of that. Because, well—you fell asleep during a trial before, but I thought that you were just joking around then. This time you fell asleep, missed half of the trial, and got up and continued participating like it was nothing.”

“Eh. Me being a little tired isn’t going to hold me up from participating. Actually, it’s kinda a sad thing that I did better than everybody else literally in my sleep, huh?”

“I, well, um… They did their best and you did too. Thank you. N-Not for doing your best, but for the help. I’ve, uh,” Shuichi began to shift around in his seat, “noticed the ‘hints’ you’ve been giving me and… I’ll admit that at first I thought they were kind of, um, pretentious—if that’s the right word—but… I guess it’s kind of interesting how you always seem one step ahead, Ouma-kun. And I figured that instead of getting annoyed by it, I’ll think of it as useful, like how I feel about the Monokuma Files. I used to think that they were frustrating but now I just think of it as whatever information the file doesn’t provide then it’s a blank that I have to fill in during the trial. I, yeah… Sorry, I think I said too much…”

Kokichi was actually tempted to say something cheesy like “You can never say too much” for a good second. That was one thing Kokichi really like about Shuichi, and maybe even the reason he had started liking him altogether in the first place, because Shuichi was a surprisingly surprising guy. Kokichi turned away from him and looked up at the ceiling. “No, Saihara-chan is the funny guy for thanking me and mothering me like this.”

“W-Wha—I’m not mothering you!”

“Oh yes you are. You’re sitting all close to my bed right now like a mother does whenever her kid is sick. What, does Saihara-chan like the idea of babying me while I’m all submissive and vulnerable like this? I didn’t know that he was _that_ kind of guy.” Kokichi was expecting another flustered response but he got a laugh instead. “Ugh, stop laughing.” Kokichi rolled his eyes. “Saihara-chan is so weeeird.” Shuichi had a nice laugh though, and it was a rarity to hear.

“I’ve been thinking about you before, during, and after the class trial,” Shuichi said once his laugh quieted down, “I think there’s a high possibility that you could be concussed. And… that isn’t good. It’s not good for any of us to get sick because then… because then the situation would basically be hopeless because none of us are medically skilled and we’re all trapped in here for now…”

_What if I die from this?_

What _if_ Kokichi died from it? Would it be his fault for accidentally falling or Korekiyo’s fault for messing with the floorboards in the first place and thus causing for him to fall? There was just the perfect amount of leeway for the mastermind to play around with and Kokichi had long promised himself that if he _had_ to die then it has to be in a way that only Shuichi would be able to figure out. Kokichi tried to hold down the sigh that was trying to claw its way out of his throat but it came out as more of a choked sound and Shuichi definitely heard it.

“W-What’s wrong?”

“Isn’t it funny?” Kokichi took another crack at his usual boisterous laugh but it did nothing but make his headache worse. “If I ended up dying then there would be a trial, right? Then who would everybody vote for? Me, Shinguji-chan, or the floorboards? Well, the floorboards aren’t students here, huh? So it would be between Shinguji-chan and me. That would be really, really confusing. I guess I would have to do something before it could ever come to that.”

“A-Ah—!” Shuichi resettled himself back in his seat. “O-Ouma-kun, don’t say things like that. In fact, I think it should give us more motivation to get out of here, to get you help.”

“Yeah, no. It would only fill _you_ with motivation because no one would really care if I was gone, let’s be honest here.”

“I don’t think so. Just because we can get annoyed by you, doesn’t mean that we wouldn’t care if you died, Ouma-kun. I mean… I feel bad for using her as an example, but think about Angie-san. She was polarizing everyone with her ‘student council,’ but of course we all cared when she died.”

“Saihara-chan, I’m a little different from Angie-chan.”

“How so?”

“‘How so?’ I… forgot what I was going to say. Ah, well. That’s too bad.”

“W-What, that fast?” Kokichi just blinked. “Hey, Ouma-kun…” Oh no, he was talking with _that_ tone of voice. That tone that anime protagonists always spoke in whenever they wanted to say something hopeful and cheesy to the side characters. “It’s okay to talk about how you feel.” _Yeah, but when you say it like that it just reminds me how I could_ never _tell you how I feel_. “You—”

Kokichi interrupted him with the loudest yawn he could crank out. “Saihara-chan, I’m tiiired. I’m going to sleep. Nighty night.” He squeezed his eyes shut to seal the deal.

The blankets began to ruffle around. Kokichi could feel a hand grasp around for a moment before it grabbed his. His eyes shot right back open. Shuichi was looking away at the wall and beginning to tap his foot against the leg of the chair. Shuichi’s palm was kind of sweaty and it was kind of gross and his grasp was kind of weak and he looked kind of nervous but – the fact that he was _touching_ Kokichi was colossal and his stupid heart was going to beat of out his stupid chest. But he felt like he was allowed to relish in at least one good fleeting moment that his life provided, maybe.

Kokichi wasn’t lying when he said that he was tired. He tried to squeeze Shuichi’s hand, but it came out more as a pathetic squeeze around the other’s fingers that he probably couldn’t even feel, before he fell asleep.

∴

Kokichi almost forgot how dark his room could get with the lights off, being that there were no windows anywhere.

Shuichi’s hand was gone. “…Saihara-chan? You still there?” No reply. The thought that Shuichi must have left to go sleep in his own room was wistful, but a bed was more comfortable than a chair could ever be. A slight positive was that Kokichi could at least get out of bed without feeling like he was trying to jump down from the ledge of a balcony.

Lights on. Nothing was too different. There was still water on the nightstand and food on the desk and the desk’s chair was still by the edge of Kokichi’s bed. The monitor clicked on. Kokichi had grown accustomed to waking up around the time that the morning announcement came on even though it didn’t necessarily mean that he got up or met up with everyone at the time.

Monokuma was on the screen instead of the Monokubs. “Sorry to interrupt your regularly scheduled programming, but a body has been discovered! Everyone head to the dormitory! Well… not like you’re already there, huh?” Monokuma giggled to himself before the monitor shut back off.

 _In… the dormitory?_ Kokichi slowly moved his eyes away from the monitor and to the door. If he opened his door, the sight of a body was inevitable? Someone had really killed where they slept?

Kokichi felt like he was moving underwater as he wrapped his fingers around his doorknob, turned it, and pushed the door open. Everyone was downstairs, gathered together in the middle of the dormitory right by the bottom of the steps, all looking up at something. They were all standing too close and blocking whatever they were flocking around with their bodies.

Gripping on tight to the rail, Kokichi slowly walked downstairs one by one by one. No one turned to look at him. They were all too fixated on whatever the fuck they were staring at to notice him. But being at the top of the stairs had a slight advantage: Kokichi could see that there was a rope attached to one of the banisters of the railing on the upper level. He at least remembered seeing rope _somewhere_ before. The fibers of the rope were frayed but it was knotted tightly to the railing and its end was falling down, down, down into the crowd of his fellow entrapped inmates.

Kokichi had to push his way through everyone. There might have been a grumble and a dirty look here and there. That didn’t matter. Nothing mattered anymore. Kokichi’s heart stopped once he saw it.

Shuichi’s swinging body.

“—ma-kun? O-Ouma-kun? Wake up.”

“H-Huh?”

“I-I think you were having a nightmare.” Kokichi could feel Shuichi’s hand again. “Are you okay?”

“I’m _fine_. God, Saihara-chan doesn’t need to mother hen me.” Answering that question honestly would cause a domino effect of Shuichi being even more worried about him and Kokichi feeling even stupider. Tears were pricking his eyes. Kokichi didn’t even feel sad per se. He was sure that he had nightmares before even though he couldn’t recall any specific ones. So why did want to be a baby over some stupid little dream? Dreams weren’t real. _But those dreams feel so real…_ “It’s nothing. Maybe I’m just hungry or something—I dunno.”

Shuichi clearly wasn’t buying it. If Kokichi was in his prime then he could’ve concocted something a million times better than “maybe I’m just hungry.” With their hands connected, Shuichi could clearly feel how his skin had broken out into a cold sweat.

“Ouma-kun…” Shuichi let out a slow breath and squeezed his hand. “Now that I’m watching over you, it’s okay to say if something’s wrong. Even if you have to say it in your own ‘special’ way, because I know… I know how you are, it’s okay to ask for help. It’s not a weak thing to do, you know? I had to learn that the hard way from Momota-kun…” He shifted again before he began to entwine their fingers together. He was so warm. He was the kind of person who quietly radiated their warmth. Wasn’t a person who beamed it like… like someone whose name Kokichi couldn’t remember anymore. And his eyes didn’t need to adjust to the darkness so that he could see that Shuichi was giving one of his smaller, timid smiles. He just knew.

Kokichi didn’t feel the need to tell Shuichi about his nightmare, but at least the other had been there to lessen the aftershocks of it. Shuichi had probably fallen asleep with their hands still together and woke up from the feeling of Kokichi doing something pathetic like shaking or trembling or whimpering in his sleep.

How sad.

How sad that Kokichi had managed to come up with a plan on what to do if he died so that the process would be less strenuous on Shuichi but he had never considered the vice versa. His nightmare was the horrifying reminder of that truth he had tried so hard to run away from. Shuichi had shaped up to be the only “tolerable” person in the Academy, and if he ended up being killed…

The monitor clicked on. Kokichi nearly jumped out of his skin. No Monokuma. Just the Monokubs giving the morning announcement in their own “unique” way.

“Hey, Ouma-kun,” Shuichi rubbed his thumb over Kokichi’s knuckles. “How about we head to the cafeteria to eat breakfast, okay?” Shuichi didn’t move to stand until Kokichi nodded. “I’m going back to my room to shower and I’ll meet you back here.”

Kokichi still didn’t have an appetite for any kind of food though. He was in the mood for something sappy like holding Shuichi’s hand again and listening to him talk about anything and everything to show that he was alive and he wasn’t going anywhere. But that was just another truth to hide away from himself. Kokichi tucked it far away in the recesses of his cloudy mind beside the nightmare as he forced his aching body to push his blankets away and try to get out of bed.


	2. PART II OF PART I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> theyneverseemtolearn.  
> 脳 | _brain, mind, memory_.  
>  脳震盪 ( _nōshintō_ , lit. _concussion_ )
> 
> symptoms include: changes in appetite, paranoia, sensitivity to light and sound, problems reading, problems writing, diminished sense of taste.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for 1,000+ reads and 180+ kudos on the first chapter alone, that’s never happened for me before. ♡

Breakfast was more interesting to look at than to eat.

“Ey, Shota!” Kokichi (reluctantly) moved his eyes away from his plate and to Miu. “Why’d ya leave the courtroom yesterday? Didja have to get one off real quick _ie_ or didja have to take a mondo duke?”

Out of all people, Kokichi was not expecting for Kaito to click his tongue and say, “And you use Kiibo to monitor your shits, Iruma, you got no fucking right to talk about anybody else’s.” Did Kaito just _defend_ him?

“Rise and shine ursine!”

“Rise… and shine… ursine? What does that mean…?”

“ _Pee-peek-a-peek-a-boo_! A millennium later, and that song _never_ gets old!”

“Monophanie, Monotaro, and Monokuma,” Himiko rattled off slowly. Her voice dragged on more than usual. “Looks like the gang’s all here.” She let out a noisy, nasally sigh. “Why are you bothering us during our sacred breakfast time? What a pain…” (It was funny how she said “sacred breakfast time” when it didn’t go unnoticed that Himiko hadn’t taken a bite of her food either.)

“We came here to deliver your prizes for doing such a good job during the last trial!” Monophanie held up what appeared to be a keycard. “Starting with the motive!”

“What?!” Kaito shot up to his feet. “You’re just givin’ out the fucking motive just like that?”

Kokichi had his hand, palm downwards, on the table for the duration for breakfast, just close enough to his fork that he could feel the cool, untouched metal brush against his skin. He felt his hand slowly seize into itself, his nails biting into his palm. _I want it. I want it. I_ need _it._ He needed to get up and take that motive before anyone else could.

It was the perfect scenario that only reaped benefits: a motive that wasn’t something that affected the group as a whole (what were the first two motives again?), one that could be taken by a single person (and it had to be him), and it could hold extremely vital information. A keycard heavily suggested that a previously locked door could be opened and a new area could be explored. Whatever was behind that door wasn’t going to be a simple research lab but something important enough to be deemed as a motive. It had to be monumental, something earthshattering even.

Kokichi unclenched his hand and forced his body to move, to push his chair back and move up on his trembling legs. But in the same amount of time that it took him to stand, everyone else had already gathered around the Monokubs.

Kiibo rubbed his chin in between his fingers. “I highly advise that we do something about this.” He had already plucked the keycard from Monophanie and was holding it up to the rest of the group with his free hand. “I suggest that we find some way to destroy it. That choice seems most optimal.”

“Just give it to the strongest person here,” Maki muttered.

“Whoa, hey now,” Kaito pounded his fist into the palm of his hand with a smirk, “no need to compliment me, I got it—”

“You’re absolutely right, Harukawa-san!” Kiibo turned away from Kaito’s awaiting hands. “Could you dispose of this, Gonta-kun?”

Kokichi gnashed his teeth as he heard Gonta’s joyful “Sure thing, if it will help everyone then Gonta will be happy to do it!” over Kaito’s dramatic sputter and Monokuma’s equally dramatic cries. He was so weak and slow now. Normally he would’ve been able to lithely and stealthily just snatch up whatever he wanted before anyone could notice (skills that Shuichi had once said suited the title of “Ultimate Thief” rather than “Ultimate Supreme Leader,” like it made much of a difference). The unsettling feeling of “uselessness” was settling in. It was too much. It was so stupid.

While the rest of the “prizes” (the Monokubs dubbed them as an Octobrush and a Levistone or whatever) were being distributed amongst the group, Kokichi slipped out of the cafeteria. The lights were getting too bright and his emotional regulator was beginning to crack.

“Hey, um,” Shuichi tucked the Octobrush in his pocket, “I’ll go see what this does with Ouma-kun, if that’s okay?”

“Why’re you asking permission?” Kaito huffed. “Do whatever the fuck you want.”

“T-Thanks.”

“See ya later, Shuichi.” Kaito gave him a curt wave as a sendoff before whirling around on his heel. “Oi, Yumeno, come here! I wanna talk to you.”

“M-Me? Oh no…”

∴

It didn’t take long for Shuichi to find Kokichi huddled up, head downwards, knees against the chest, in the shadows of the courtyard. Upon closer inspection, the smaller boy was covering his ears and had his eyes tightly shut and pressed against his knees.

“O-Ouma-kun… are you okay?”

“I’m peachy keen, Saihara-chan, why do you ask?”

“Y-You’re shaking…”

“But I said I’m fine, so,” Kokichi shrugged, “leave me alone.”

“I will, um…” Now Kokichi was beginning to rock himself back and forth. “I’ll be right back, s-so just wait here.” Shuichi left.

_Shuichi left…_

_Shuichi left and he’s never coming back._

Panic was caging in on his chest.

 _You’re going to die here_ alone, alone, alone.

And he could _feel_ himself losing consciousness and he couldn’t fucking _fight_ it.

∴

Kokichi had to practically pry his own eyes open just to see Miu and Kiibo walking past him. Was he having yet another nightmare? And were they the bastards that had killed Shuichi in his last nightmare?

“Ey, Shouma, the fuck are you lookin’ at?!” Kokichi slowly got up to his feet, leaning slightly on the building behind him for support. “Uh, hellooo?” Miu snorted and started to approach him with Kiibo in tow. “Didja become deaf in the past five seconds or somethin’?” He caught on to it. Her hand. She was slowly moving it from behind her back and he knew what she was going to do, she was going to fucking kill him right now while he was too weak to fight bac—

She snapped her fingers in his face. He nearly jumped out of his skin. “Yo, earth to Shota! Are ya malfunctionin’ or somethin’?” She snapped again, and again. The sound echoed in his ears. “Got some screws lose? Lost a few brain cells? Answer the question!”

“Ouma-kun,” Kiibo steadily picked up, “are you feeling alright? Your eyes appear to be unfocused and you have not responded to us yet.” Miu was starting to wave her hand in his face. This is how things always began: innocently. Showing concern, conversing – everything was “friendly” until _they_ snapped.

Kokichi fixed his mouth to say something, something that had taken root and formed in the deepest pit of his stomach, something part paranoid and part uncomposed because he was only mere seconds away from throwing away the scraps of what was left of his façade and completely flipping his shit, but another hand suddenly grasped his shoulder. And he would have screamed, would have lost it if he didn’t recognize the touch. It was the same hand that had held his while he slept, while he had a nightmare (so this wasn’t a nightmare now?) that was gingerly touched him now, pressing something into his other hand – a chilled washcloth.

_Shuichi left and he’s never coming back._

“Iruma-san, Kiibo-kun—” Shuichi said something else that was muddled over as Kokichi placed the cloth over his eyes. “—et’s go.” He steered Kokichi away.

“Where’s Saihara-chan taking me?” Kokichi asked after taking a few blind steps.

“Uh, the dormitory. To your room.”

“Ooh, you want to go to my room again? How scandalous~.”

“No, I was going to investigate to see what the ‘prize’ that the Monokubs gave us opened up.”

“ _You_ were? By yourself?”

“Ah… yeah…?”

“Yeah, no.” That foreboding sense was returning, clutching at his chest, wrapping around his heart, scrapping at the bare edges of his ribcage. And there was the memory of when Kokichi had passed out just a few minutes ago, of how pathetically scared he was, how the intrusive thoughts of Shuichi leaving him alone reverberated throughout his cloudy mind. “I don’t think Saihara-chan can investigate by himself. No, please, no need to beg. I, the great Ouma Kokichi, will accompany you during your little scavenger hunt so that you won’t miss out on anything.” Shuichi stopped walking. He still had his hand on Kokichi’s shoulder and had taken to guiding him around. Kokichi could feel the other flex his fingers out for a few seconds before he sighed.

“If you wanted to come with me, you could’ve just said so, Ouma-kun.”

“Um, I never said I did. I just said I was going to bless you with my presence so that you don’t mess anything up while you’re looking around.”

“How are you going to help me look around with your eyes covered?”

“Details, details,” Kokichi waved him off. He then pivoted his feet and swung around in the opposite direction that Shuichi had originally been leading him. “Anyways, onwards! It’s this way!” He chuckled to himself when he felt a panicked hand snake around his shoulders again. “Wow, was Saihara-chan scared for a second there?”

“N-No, I—”

“Wait, so you weren’t scared? You don’t care about me?! I-I could just c-c-cry!!” Kokichi took in a deep breath, ready to test out his (fake) wail again, but a hand covered his mouth. He nearly dropped the cloth away from his eyes. It was a good thing he didn’t drop it, he didn’t need Shuichi to see him with his eyes widened in dumb shock.

“Ah, no yelling.” Shuichi took his hand away all too fast. It wasn’t like Kokichi was already feeling dizzy in the first place. “I don’t think that’s a good thing to do right now.”

“Yeah, sure… Whatever,” Kokichi muttered.

∴

Up five floors – with Shuichi’s maybe wanted, maybe unwanted assistance – and an used Octobrush later, two new labs were open for business: the Ultimate Cosplayer’s Research Lab and the Ultimate Detective’s Research Lab.

Kokichi would never say it aloud, but Shuichi’s lab didn’t suit him – unless the other guy was hiding some type of hidden nature from everyone in the form of ebony furniture, poison bottles, and brittle pamphlets.

Speaking of ebony furniture, it was actually pretty confortable. Kokichi took the one closest to the fireplace and he was just the right size to curl his entire body on top of the cushion and lay his head against the top of the seat. The fifth floor was pleasantly dim along with Shuichi’s research lab.

Speaking of the devil, Kokichi could hear Shuichi rummaging around, murmuring a few things to himself here and there. Kokichi peered one eye out from underneath the cloth. (And there was something about the sound of hearing Shuichi’s quiet footfalls and a scattered murmur of “What does this mean…?” and “Why…?” that made Kokichi actually _not_ entirely uncomfortable with the fact that he still had the cloth over his eyes and was willingly allowing himself not to see – a complete turnaround from his mini meltdown of _Shuichi is never coming back_ from when he had fell unconscious earlier.) Shuichi was just moving away from the bookcase and heading towards the other side of the room. When they had first entered the lab, Kokichi had tried to take one of the books off the shelves and read it but the words on the pages were getting all jumbled up and Kokichi was too tired (even though he had basically been carried upstairs) to even begin to attempt to focus.

Shuichi suddenly glanced back at him after thoroughly looking over four bottles of poison. “Ouma-kun, did you have another nightmare?”

“Huh?” Kokichi slid the cloth back over his eyes. “What’s Saihara-chan talking about?”

“Just like last night, did you have another nightmare in the courtyard earlier?”

“I still don’t know what Saihara-chan is talking about, but,” Kokichi shrugged – his body still ached with the motion, but it was a major improvement over yesterday, “it doesn’t matter anyway. Dreams, nightmares, whatever—they’re not real.”

“I… I think it does matter. You were acting very strangely towards Iruma-san and Kiibo-kun earlier when I had come back. You, um… You had that same look on your face when you had snapped at Yumeno-san during the trial. Ah, but you had fallen asleep after that, so a nightmare probably didn’t influence that situation then, huh…”

“I dunno. Maybe I was just a little tired. Saihara-chan isn’t being a good mother if his baby is getting cranky all the time. That’s grounds to get Child Protective Services because you’re neglecting me. And I know that’s only in the States, but my organization has connections, I can ship some social workers to Japan in the blink of an ey—” There it was again, that infamous hand on the shoulder. Unlike earlier, Kokichi flinched. Shuichi’s hand curled into itself and he could feel him begin to pull away so he leaned into the touch. It took a lot of strength – mentally instead of physically for once – to do so. It took every ounce of his freewill and courage, but he did it. And Shuichi wasn’t moving away anymore. So at least he didn’t embarrass himself or anything. That was a bonus. Along with feeling Shuichi’s hand squeeze his shoulder.

“Ouma-kun,” Shuichi said, voice low, “you gave me permission to keep you under my watch, so I’m going to be as, um, as _devoted_ to you as I can but things would be easier for the both of us if you just… if you just _let me_ watch you to the best of my ability, you know?”

Kokichi took the cloth off of his eyes. Shuichi was standing in right front of him, eyebrows furrowed, the corners of his lips seconds away from drawing into a frown. The fireplace casted a series of interesting shadows and flickers of light across his face and body. It sharpened the amber flecks of his smoky gray eyes, nearly melted his long eyelashes against his cheekbones, softened the bridge and tip of his nose yet hardened the careful line of his jaw. The light danced across the knuckles and fingers of his hand too, the one that was residing on Kokichi’s shoulder – the same hand that was beginning to tap slightly before he began to stroke his fingers across his shoulders and back. The movements were slight but enough to send a shiver down the spine.

Kokichi quickly directed his eyes away from Shuichi. He blamed it rightfully on the touching and the lighting, it was all too much. “Is Saihara-chan the new Momota-chan now? He keeps saying all these cheesy, ‘inspiring’ things and it’s _really_ gross.”

“Sure, I can be if that makes you feel better.” Shuichi chuckled quietly.

“Ah… no, it doesn’t.” Kokichi said the words in the best impression of Shuichi he could conjure up. It must have been pretty decent because Shuichi’s fingers stopped moving for a brief second. “Momota-chan is a total weirdo. He calls Saihara-chan by his real name but it doesn’t work that way vice versa.”

“Well, you’re a pretty straightforward person too. You call everyone ‘chan.’”

“Hm? Do you not like it when you call you that, Sai~ha~ra-chan?” Out of the corner of his eye, Kokichi saw Shuichi actually grow _flustered_ – who, what, where, why, and how. Emphasis on the “why” and “how.” More teasing was definitely in order. Kokichi settled a comfortable grin on his face. “Ooh, did I just find out something new about Saihara-chan? Do you have an inferiority complex or something?”

“A-Ah, um… I don’t think that that’s what an ‘inferiority complex’ is.”

“Nuh-uh~, it’s too late to take it back!” Kokichi, on a leap of faith, reached up and took the hand on his shoulder into his. Shuichi’s palm was hot but at least he wasn’t sweating like the first time. “I still can’t believe that Saihara-chan waited until I was so weak and vulnerable to admit all of these secret nasty things about himself to me. Wooooow,” Kokichi squeezed his hand a couple of times to seal the deal, “we’re already getting closer together! And Saihara-chan looks like a tomato right now!” Shuichi bit his lip. It was his turn to look away.

“M-Maybe that isn’t such a bad thing—getting closer together, I mean.” Kokichi was too gracious to become all tomato-y, but the effect was still the same. They both dropped their hands immediately after that.

∴

Kokichi just needed to finalize his blueprints. It was a little frustrating with his eyes wanting to close and his hands cramping up after making, like, two lines on the paper, but it didn’t matter. He had read over his notes (or, more accurately: got the gist of bits and pieces of his notes because words were still sort of a scramble-y thing for his mushy brain) and had put together the memory of his plan. It was a good thing that he had some things together pre-bump-in-the-head, he couldn’t even imagine doing any scheming or extra critical thinking post-bump-in-the-head.

There was a knock on the door after Kokichi finalized his second blueprint. Kokichi shot up as quickly as his body would allow from the floor. No one had ever knocked on his door before except for… when it was to… do something important… Maybe. _Hm…_

An easy voice seeped through the door: “Ouma-kun, are you alright?” And Kokichi’s unfounded fear settled down within the same time it had taken to arise in the first place. He couldn’t feel like a deer in the headlights every time there was a knock on his door or someone walked up to him. Well, as long as that someone was Shuichi then it was okay. Who knew about everyone else.

Kokichi got up and opened the door. “I came to get you for dinner. Hm?” Shuichi peeked over his shoulder. He must have been soaking in the pencils and papers on the floor. “Are you… drawing something?”

“Yup! Because Saihara-chan is an honorary member of my organization, I’ll give him a little inside info. But if he tells anybody what I’m about to say then he’ll be killed for treason and breaking my heart.”

“I promise I won’t tell then.”

“Good, good. They’re,” Kokichi looked up and down the hall before he leaned in close to Shuichi, “blueprints,” he whispered.

“Oh…? Well, um, sorry to stop you from making your ‘blueprints,’ but we really should get to the cafeteria now.” Kokichi was tempted to plop right back down on the floor and continue his planning.

“Silly Saihara-chan. It’s dangerous to eat with everyone else, don’t you know? It would take nothing for someone to go _oopsie_ and slip a little bit of poison in the food.”

“W-What? No one’s ever done it before, so I guess it’ll be unlikely to happen now.”

“Um, _non non_. You must’ve not been looking around your lab hard enough earlier, there’s, like, a chem artillery of poison in there and it’s all on display too. Anybody can go in there and poison us.”

“Ouma-kun, you haven’t eaten since yesterday, have you? The food that I gave you yesterday is still on the desk. Ah,” Shuichi tried to lift his lips up into a reassuring smile, but it wasn’t really working out, “you can eat that if that makes you feel better. I got it yesterday before the lab opened up and it’s been locked in your room the whole time so it should be ‘safe.’” Kokichi sternly shook his head.

“I’m not hungry.”

“Well… we can at least get you out of your room. You’ve been in here all day.”

“Ugh, fiiine, _God_. Anything to make Saihara-chan leave me alone.”

∴

Shuichi took Kokichi for a walk in the courtyard. It was nearing evening so the sunlight wasn’t present to be harsh on the eyes.

Everyone else was leaving the cafeteria once they arrived. Shuichi said something here and there to everyone. Kaito might have clapped him on the shoulder with one of his average sayings but the thing that caught Kokichi’s eye was the fact that the aspiring astronaut had both Maki _and_ Himiko trailing behind him. Stranger things have happened when Kokichi was away from everybody though.

“Okay, here.” Shuichi was holding up a plate. “This one was supposed to be for you.”

Kokichi shook his head. “No, thanks. Did Saihara-chan not hear what I said earlier?”

Shuichi sighed. “Ouma-kun, just…” He picked up a fork from off the table, dipped it into the rice and meat concoction on the plate, and took a large bite out of it. “See?” He swallowed the food down. “It’s not… _poisoned_ or anything. Here.” Kokichi shook his head again. “Fine.” Shuichi let out a soft huff from his nose as he set the plate back down. “Would you rather I make something for you then?”

“Nope, that’s not gonna work either. The food in the kitchen could be pre-poisoned, Saihara-chan.”

“Ouma-kun, I don’t understand what—how… Everyone else ate and they’re fine. I just ate and I’m fine too.”

“Maybe only my food is poisoned and whatever’s left over in the kitchen is too. Everyone knows I haven’t eaten yet, they’ve had plenty of opportunities to do whatever they wanted.” And the worst thing was Shuichi wasn’t even growing the slightest bit frustrated by Kokichi’s behavior. Anyone else would have given up or gotten fed up by now. Shuichi’s patience had to be the ugliest thing of all about him. Kokichi sniffed deeply once, twice – so that his nose could grow nice and red, before he forced some tears to well up. “Why won’t Saihara-chan leave me alone already? Whyyyy does he keep bothering meee?!”

“Because I can’t leave you alone, not when you’re sick. A-At least drink some water or something,” he set the cup of water that was meant for Kokichi forward on the table, “and promise me you’ll get some rest, okay?”

Kokichi stopped crying. “No promises~.” Shuichi fixed his mouth like he was about to say something else, something more worthwhile, but he just shook his head instead and bid Kokichi goodnight instead.

Kokichi was alone nearing nighttime in the cafeteria.

The Academy always had a different vibe at night. The stars were pretty but they were always partitioned away by the same glass dome that caged them all in. They were beginning to peek out but had no moon to complement their glimmer. Kokichi couldn’t remember if he had ever seen the moon before during his imprisonment. Not like it mattered. That was probably something that Kaito cared about more than he did to be honest.

To wash away that thought – because _ew_ , who wants to think about Kaito? – Kokichi took a sip of the water Shuichi left out for him. It left a knot in his parched throat but it was admittedly refreshing. But the food… Kokichi bit the bullet and took a bite. He nearly spit it back out. Not only did it smell extremely bitter and left his nose all weird and tingly, but it tasted like absolute shit, God. He threw the fork back down on the plate.

Looks like there was nothing left to do but head back to his room before he got kicked out of the dining hall. And any more attempts of finishing his blueprints were out of the window though. Exhaustion was creeping up fast. The roller coaster of tired, wide awake, hungry, starving – it was getting really annoying, really fast.

But... there wasn’t anything to do about it.

∴

Kokichi collapsed on his bed once he entered his room. But he couldn’t even go to sleep properly. There were some odd noises outside his door and it was making his ears buzz. Kokichi growled to himself as he shuffled his shoes back on and headed outside. He was feeling that sense of ungrounded anger again but he waved it off as justifiable frustration. Someone was interrupting not only his sleep but surely everyone else’s too.

There was a silhouette out in the hall, upstairs on the level of his room across the other side. Kokichi gripped on to railing as he leaned over. He couldn’t even make out who it was. And the sounds weren’t stopping. “Hellooo! Could you stop? It’s past everybody’s bedtimes, including yours!” No reply. The alien anger grew. “Ugh, geez. What the fuck could you be doing at, like, midnight?” There was nothing good to do at nighttime other than form more secrets: such as exploring or killing. And there wasn’t much to explore in the dormitory to Kokichi’s knowledge.

Kokichi, arms crossed, walked over to the other side of the hall. The silhouette remained unmoving. Whoever it was, they were taunting him, pissing him off. They were leaning against the railing, just waiting for him. Kokichi cooked up some nasty words in his mind as he approached.

The silhouette slumped over when Kokichi was just a couple of steps away. It wasn’t a person, at least, not a _whole_ person. It was a torso. A bloodied torso. Unmistakably wearing an infamous dark pinstriped uniform. With the white buttons. The grey pockets. The collar with badges pinned to its front. The _gaping hole at the neck_ —

He forced his eyes away. There was a rope. Its frayed and torn ends lied limp in the severed body’s pale hands and was coiled just into the shadow of the railing, leading downstairs. Kokichi followed it. At least his condition didn’t affect his ability to sneak around.

His knuckles turned white as he walked down, following the blood trail that was increasing with each step he took. There was a discarded shoe at the bottom of the steps. A leg near the entrance of the dormitory.

There was another silhouette in the entryway. The starlight faced their front and shrouded their figure away into darkness. Calling out would be the worst thing to do, but there wasn’t anywhere to hide in the downstairs of the dorm unless Kokichi could pick into one of the dead student’s rooms as quickly and quietly as possible. The person seemed satisfied with… whatever they were doing. Cutting into a corpse. Hopefully the squelching and slicing would drown out the sound of a knob jiggling.

Kokichi’s shoe slipped on a bloodstain and the sound screeched across the floor. The silhouette froze. Kokichi froze. The silhouette straightened up. Kokichi took a step back. The silhouette began to turn around. Kokichi woke up.

∴

Kokichi bundled himself up until his blankets formed a cocoon around his body before he walked downstairs. The blankets were both an attempt to keep warm and to possibly cushion any blows if he fell down the stairs. He had woken up shivering. Shivering because his core temperature suddenly dipped down when he woke up. Shivering because images of severed necks and unraveled ropes and fresh blood kept flashing before his eyes.

Kokichi’s trembling legs carried him to Shuichi’s room. He knocked on the door before he could even think twice about it. It took about ten or so seconds until it opened. Shuichi wasn’t wearing his jacket and a few strands of his hair stuck out this way and that. He blinked a couple of times until the a little bit of sleepiness abandoned his eyes. “Ouma-kun, is there something wrong…?”

“Nope. I should be asking _you_ that. That’s why I came down here. To ask if something was wrong with _you_.”

“Ah, um… There’s nothing wrong.” Shuichi covered his mouth as he yawned. “I was just sleeping.”

“Well, I was sleeping earlier too and guess what happened? I had a nightmare, _another_ nightmare. And at this point I know that it’s some type of freaky premonition for something. But you look okay—or, at least as okay as Saihara-chan can look because he’s not the best looking person, no offense.”

“W-What?”

“Ugh. I’ll take it from the top then since you seem to be two steps behind, as usual. I had a dream—no, a _vision_ —of Saihara-chan dying and since I’m secretly the Ultimate Clairvoyant I was checking to make sure that it didn’t come true. Well, my visions only come true about thirty-percent of the time, so I guess I didn’t have anything to worry about in the first place…” Kokichi shrugged. He could clearly see that Shuichi was okay, but why couldn’t his nerves be eased?

“You… had another nightmare. Ouma-kun,” Shuichi’s lips twitched like he wanted to frown already, “it’s okay to be scared you know. I, um… I-I had nightmares of Akamatsu-san after she died and they always scared me.” ( _Akamatsu? Akamatsu? Akamatsu?_ Who was that?) “I-I kept dreaming about her execution and just…” Shuichi squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. “D-Do you want me to sleep in your room again? Would… that make you feel better? I mean, I’m going to be helping you up the stairs anyway so I might as well…”

“Ew, no. I shouldn’t be having boys in my room so late at night. I’m going back to bed— _alone_.”

Problem: Kokichi wasn’t moving and neither was Shuichi.

“Well…” Kokichi twisted his face as if the next words that were coming out his mouth killed him to say. And, in a way, it was. “It’ll be easier if I just stayed in Saihara-chan’s room, I guess.”

“R-Right.” Shuichi stepped aside and opened his door wider. “I’ll take the floor, you can take the bed.”

“Aw, my beloved Saihara-chan is willing to sleep on the cold, hard floor and wake up with a stiff neck and back for me?” Kokichi tossed down Shuichi’s covers from off the bed and threw it on top of Shuichi’s head. “I-I-I might cry! He cares about me _so_ much!!”

“Shush, Ouma-kun. It’s too late to be yelling.”

∴

It was the shaking and the whimpering that woke Shuichi up. He wiped the sleep from his eyes as he moved up to his knees and looked over the side of the bed. He took Kokichi’s shuddering hand into his and waited, waited for it to be over. It was never wise to startle a person out of their sleep, especially if they were having a nightmare. “Ouma-kun,” Shuichi murmured. “Wake up.” He tightened his grip on the other’s hand. Kokichi’s eyes slowly opened, a stark difference from when they had shot open the first time Shuichi had been there when he had a nightmare.

Kokichi lied still. His eyes were focused up on the ceiling. Shuichi leaned his head against the side the bed but didn’t let go of his hand. He opened Kokichi’s hand and traced his fingers along the lines of his palm. Slowly but surely, Kokichi’s breathing reached a steady rhythm and he curled his smaller hand around Shuichi’s fingers.

“I’m officially going crazy, aren’t I?” Kokichi’s words were so quiet, so nervous, so unlike the Kokichi that everyone had grown accustomed to, that Shuichi had always questioned.

“No, you’re not.” Shuichi moved his head so that he could face Kokichi properly. Kokichi looked back at him. Shuichi allowed their breaths to mingle together as he gathered his thoughts. “You’re not crazy. You’re hurt and you’re sick. But you’re going to get better, okay?”

“But what if I _don’t_?” Kokichi wanted to laugh, but it _hurt_. Korekiyo was really going to kill him. “Shinguji-chan is really going to kill me,” he gasped out.

“N-No.” Shuichi repositioned their hands that their fingers could entwine together and he squeezed as tightly as he could. “No one is killing anyone. It’s going to be okay, Ouma-kun.”

No, it’s not.

_It’s not. It’s not. It’s not._


	3. PART I OF PART II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> cantgetyououtofmyhead.  
> 震 | _thunder; shake, quiver._  
>  脳震盪 ( _nōshintō_ , lit. _concussion_ )
> 
> symptoms include: dependency behaviors, hallucinations, delusions, aggression, problems judging distance.

“Suckhara, the fuck is that Shota’s problem?”

“Yeah, what’s goin’ on with Ouma? He’s been weird—weirder than usual lately. Creeping me the fuck out.”

“And you keeping Ouma in your room is… _suspicious_.”

Their voices were swirling, mixing together with that sizzling aftermath of a hissing spit. Kokichi pushed Shuichi’s door open. No one was even in the dormitory. Shuichi was nowhere to be found too. Kokichi remembered the possible ending of the morning announcement when he had woken up. Maybe Shuichi had gotten up and gone to get breakfast without him. Most logical thing to do was to go to his room and attempt to freshen up and go to the dining hall.

But, _oh_ – there was blood in the dormitory. A quick look up and around confirmed that there was nobody, dead or alive, in the dorms, up or downstairs. Kokichi dropped his blankets and shut Shuichi’s door with his foot. The blood was trailing outside of the dorms. Maybe a body had been dragged. Maybe a person had been running away.

Only one way to find out.

Kokichi tried his hardest to stick to the shadows of the halls and the courtyard, but – as much as he hated to admit it – he was not as light on his feet as he used to be. If there was a killer on the loose, with all his fumbling footfalls and slips into the sunlight, Kokichi was as good as another red smear on the ground.

“—uma.”

Kokichi spun his head around, which was a bad idea – a _super_ bad idea – he felt his head stir up internally and he nearly toppled himself over from all the dizziness the simple act caused. He was greeted with the sight of Maki, arms crossed, standing over him like she owned the place or something. “Ouma.” She sighed. She shook her head before continuing on toward the dining hall. Kokichi cut off his glance on her before it could turn into a gaze and looked back at the ground.

The blood was gone.

Oh.

 _Oh_.

“I see what’s going on here, Harukawa-chan.”

“And the only thing I see is a freak crawling around in the grass.” She didn’t look at him or miss a beat in her step. Kokichi slowly got back on to his feet and trailed after her.

Shuichi wasn’t in the cafeteria.

“Where is Harukawa-chan hiding Saihara-chan?”

“…What?” Maki took her usual ( _usual_?) seat at the table.

“Hey, don’t sit down! I asked you a question!” Kokichi waved his hand in Maki’s face. She didn’t flinch or even blink. “Where’s Saihara-chan? He’s a particular kind of person, you know, so there aren’t many places that he should be so early in the morning. I know you’re hiding him somewhere, Harukawa-chan, just tell me.”

Maki refolded her arms across her chest. “I don’t know. I’m not Saihara’s keeper.”

“Ooh. Now I _really_ see what’s going on here.” Kokichi straightened up away from Maki’s face. “You killed Saihara-chan, didn’t you?” He managed to make her eyebrow twitch with that.

“I’m… going to ignore that.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “You’re being more insufferable than usual this morning.”

Kaito and Himiko filed into the dining hall. “I,” Himiko held her finger up, “can detect some tension in the atmosphere. And,” she pointed in Kokichi and Maki’s direction, “high frequencies of it is radiating from this direction.” Kaito shrugged and took a seat beside Maki, opposite on the side where Kokichi was standing.

“Ouma and Harumaki are intense people, so they make everything tense. Especially when they’re together.” Kaito shrugged again as he crossed his arms. “It’s nothing new.”

“Wanna hear something new then?” Kokichi settled his foot on the chair in front of him and rest his elbow against it. “Guess what, guess what.”

“Ouma, it’s too fucking early for your weird little games and that creepy ass smile, I haven’t even eaten breakf—”

“Harukawa-chan killed Saihara-chan~.”

Maki was beginning to visibly bristle. “He’s lying.” Her voice remained calm at least (for now). “Like he always does.”

“Well, if Saihara-chan’s not dead, then show me where he is.”

“I already said I don—”

“Hmmm, still don’t know where he is? What about you two?” Kokichi tossed his eyes in between Kaito and Himiko. “No answers either? Thought so.” It was Kokichi’s turn to join the Crossed Arms Crew. Despite the fact that two out of the top three loudest in the Academy were in the dining hall wrapped up in the tense, stinging atmosphere only such a wild proclamation could bring, it was all quiet. They were all having some sort of stare off between one another, as if one of them was going to break the moment and lose if their eyes glanced away or even dared to do an audacious act such as blinking.

Underneath his breath, Kokichi murmured, “You two must be in on the conspiracy too, then,” never taking his eyes off of Kaito and Himiko. He could feel an anger like no other that he had ever experienced before bubbling through his veins. And before the steaming, toxic blood could stream its way upwards into his heart and overflow his mouth and pour out even more words that he was going to inevitably regret later, someone cleared their throat at the entrance of the cafeteria.

“Um… Is Gonta and Saihara-kun interrupting an important meeting?” Shuichi stepped out from behind Gonta, eyebrows furrowed and lips downward – his typical go-to for the upset-and-confused look.

Kokichi let out a noisy sigh. “Saihara-chaaan, where were you?”

“Oh, I, um, went to the warehouse to get medicine,” he held up the aforementioned item: at least three white pill bottles, “and Gonta-kun had been helping me, but since I couldn’t find you in my ro—I mean, the dorms, we were looking around for you.”

“Good.” Maki reclosed her eyes. “Now that you found him, take him away. He’s working on my last nerve.”

“Think he already used up my last fucking nerve,” Kaito muttered.

“Um, did something happen?” Shuichi asked.

“Ouma’s fucking talking crazy and accusing us of killing you and shit, that’s what’s fucking happenin’!”

“I, um…” Shuichi began to tuck the medicine into his pockets. “I just need to get Ouma-kun to eat something and then I’ll take him off your hands. S-Sorry.”

“Don’t fucking apologize, Shuichi,” Kaito huffed. “Ouma’s the one being the—”

Kokichi suddenly stomped his foot down on the seat of the chair. “MONOKUMA-CHAN.” The bear popped up instantaneously.

“You rang?”

“I got an itsy, bitsy, incy, wincy question.”

“Ooh? Well spit it out before I die from shivering in anticipation!”

“Is—?”

“Is _what_?! C’mon, spit it out!!”

“But…” Tsumugi must have slipped into the dining hall only a few moments ago. “You didn’t let him finish his question…”

“Is the food poisoned?”

“Yes, I’ve been absolutely tingling, waiting and waiting for one of my wonderful students to call on me to ask their even more wonderful headmaster a question! Is the food poison—wait, what?”

“Is the food poisoned?” Kokichi repeated.

“ _Is the food poisoned_? Uhhh…” Monokuma brought his paw to his semi-grin and cocked his head. “It most likely isn’t. Which is disappointing because it’d be interesting if someone slipped a little somethin’ somethin’ in the food and drinks.” Monokuma let out what could only be interpreted as a dreamy sigh. “That’d make my day actually! Hey, are any of you gonna step up and finally make your headmaster proud? You know what happens if you do!”

Kokichi turned away from the robot. “Can I trust that?” Shuichi blinked a couple of times before slowly nodding.

“Yes… You don’t have to trust Monokuma exactly, but, really, Ouma-kun, the food isn’t poisoned.” Kokichi nodded back before marching into the kitchen. Monokuma disappeared without another word.

“Okay, Shuichi, what the fuck’s going on? Why’s Ouma actin’ weirder than usual?” All eyes were on Shuichi. It would be so easy to admit everything in full, to just say the full extent on what was going on with Kokichi. Gonta could probably guess that there was something wrong based upon their search for medicine together, but he hadn’t asked any questions and pried into the situation. Miu and Kiibo had a chance of catching on if they thought too much about their interaction with Kokichi the other day. Maki without a doubt had to know that something had happened to Kokichi, she had been there to witness firsthand the aftermath of his fall. Shuichi could feel the typical burn that came with being underneath her heavy gaze even now. But Shuichi figured that it was probably better to leave everything up in the air. He shouldn’t expose Kokichi’s condition without the other’s consent first, and there was more of a chance that Kokichi wanted to keep it in between them than share it with everyone else. Shuichi hadn’t forgotten how reluctant the other was when he had proposed that he watched over him in the first place. If he nearly didn’t want one person to look after him, then having the entire group in on it didn’t seem like a logical pathway either.

“It’s nothing, Momota-kun.” Shuichi allowed his face to break out into an imitation of an easy smile. “I-I’m sure that Ouma-kun will return to his version of normal by tomorrow.” Speaking of the devil, Kokichi came out of the kitchen. Without sparing a glance to anyone else, he walked to the exit.

“C’mon, Saihara-chan.” He raised his hand up in the air and snapped his fingers twice. “I need someone to escort me in case one of these bloodthirsty idiots tries to kill me or kill someone else and leave me without an alibi.”

“S-Sorry for… the inconvenience?” Shuichi called out as Kokichi grabbed on to his sleeve.

He heard Tsumugi murmur, “Your apology is a question?”

∴

“Ouma-kun.” Shuichi pulled Kokichi’s hand away from his sleeve once they were out of earshot. “Why would you accuse Harukawa-san of killing me? You know that we’re friends.”

“Aaah, Saihara-chan sounds so scary right now! You know what, actually, ewww—you sound like you’re trying to be a dad or something.”

“Ouma-kun, please answer the question.”

“Okay, so what that you and Harukawa-chan are friends? Friends hurt each other. Didn’t a friend hurt you before?” ( _Akamatsu? Akamatsu? Akamatsu?_ ) It wasn’t even a dig, but an honest question. The gaps in Kokichi’s memory were disgusting. “But since me and Saihara-chan aren’t friends, we won’t hurt each other! Isn’t that great?”

“Ouma-kun… are you feeling okay?”

“Perfectly fine. Ooh, we need to make a detour. I have to get something from Iruma-chan’s lab real quick. Wait out here. Sit. Stay. Good dog!”

“Wh—?” Kokichi closed the door on Shuichi.

“W-Whoa, whoa, _hey_! Kinda busy doin’ maintenance here!” Kokichi waited quietly, teetering back and forth on the balls of his feet and the tips of toes, as Miu strung out more curses as she straightened herself and Kiibo out. “What do ya want, Ouma Cockichi?”

“I want my commissions already. I know it shouldn’t take you this long to make something.”

“Ooh, you want your commissions? Yeah, problem: you gave me a bunch of chicken shit scratch, so I can’t do shit for ya.”

“…What?”

“Are ya soft in the head?! You literally gave me a bunch of gibberish on those papers, what the fuck am I supposed to do with that?”

“What are you talking about? Those blueprints couldn’t have been any clearer.”

“Are you kidd—? Look at this shit.” Miu picked up some papers from off a nearby worktable and shoved them in Kokichi’s face. “You literally scribbled on, like, four pieces of paper, slid them underneath my door instead of givin’ ‘em to me directly, and expected me to do something with it? Pfft.” She snorted as she laughed and threw the papers down. “The fuck’s been your problem lately, Stupid Shota?”

“I don’t see what you’re talking about.” Kokichi pointed to one paper that fell back on the worktable. “These couldn’t have been more perfectly mapped out. This is the best blueprint that you’ll ever get.”

“Ouma-kun,” Kiibo was still twiddling his thumbs in the corner of the lab, “I’m going to have to agree with Iruma-san. Those papers are filled with nonsensical lines.”

“First of all, Kiibaby, you’re not human, so your opinion doesn’t matter—not now, not ever. Second of all—”

“Hey, fuck off already!” Miu tried to wave him away. “I’m tired of talkin’ to ya. You’re about to make me lose some of my precious, golden, gorgeous brain cells. Come back to me when you’re not drawin’ like a toddler that just learned how to hold a crayon.”

“I will come back. Tomorrow morning. And everything better be done.”

“W-W-Whoa. H-Hey, you don’t gotta b-be all s-s-scary about it. W-W-Why the fuck have you been so mad lately anyway? Ooh,” she switched between being overly confident and cowardly too easily, “are ya mad because you haven’t been able to get your rocks off yet? Mad because Shithara won’t let y—?”

“I think Iruma-chan should stop talking.”

“And I think Iruma-chan hit a little too close to hooome!” Miu put her hands on her hips and cackled loudly in triumph. “Only Iruma Miu, the Busty Brainiac, can get any virgin to come in their pants and shake in their boots without even tryin’!”

“I-Iruma-san and Ouma-kun, could you please stop arguing?”

“Yes, Iruma-chan should take Kiiboy’s advice.” Kokichi slammed the door on the way out.

Shuichi was gone.

Alarm soared up and pinned his heart right against his chest. “Saihara-chan!” He called out. Shuichi was nowhere to be found. _He’s gone. They already got him. They_ —

A hand grabbed his shoulder. “Ouma-kun? C-Calm down, I’m right here.” He took his hand away all too quickly. “Sorry. Gonta-kun had come by and gave me something.” He gestured to his other hand. He was holding a small plate with a squeeze bottle that had some type of syrupy looking liquid inside. “Would you rather go to bed and get some rest or help me out for the day?”

“Is Saihara-chan only giving me two options?”

“Yes.”

“I would rather go to bed then.”

“Then why are you following me around?”

“Hm? Who’s following who around?” Shuichi clicked his tongue and shook his head. “Ew, ew, ew—you sounded just like Momota-chan, stop it!”

“So you can do impressions and I can’t?”

“I only do impressions of not-gross, not-boring people.”

“Sure. Speaking of Momota-kun, when I had gone to work out with him, Harukawa-san, and Yumeno-san last night, we were theorizing about the possibility that Monokuma will replace the motive because we destroyed it.”

“What’s the Ultimate Detective’s official probability of that having a chance of happening?”

“I’m unsure. Thinking back to the previous motives, we had the time limit and the First Blood Perk, the motive videos, and now whatever the keycard had is gone. The bottom line for all the motives is a sense of panic: the first in the time limit along with a race to being the first to retrieve ‘reward’ addition, the second inflicts the desire to be reunited with loved ones on the outside, and the third one was most likely a right to see something. The only place that I can think of is the secret room in the Library, but it could really be anything.”

“Ooh, so if Monokuma-chan gives another motive it’s going to be worse than the last one, huh? Because we destroyed the last one, huh? And because everything just keeps getting worse, huh?”

“No, that’s not true. I don’t think any one of us have the capability to kill.”

“Oh, really?” It was time for Kokichi to break everything down in accordance to his demented mind. “Harukawa-chan is literally the Ultimate Assassin—she can strike at any moment because she’s mastered the art of killing. Iruma-chan, Yumeno-chan, and Shirogane-chan are snakes. Kiiboom is weird and now has a plethora of weapons to his disposal in his research lab. And Momota-chan and Gonta are strong and untrustworthy and can strike at any moment too because they can use their seemingly ‘trustworthy’ personalities and relationships with everyone to get away with—”

Kokichi nearly slammed into Shuichi’s back. “Gonta-kun asked for help with feeding his butterflies,” the taller boy murmured. It seems like he didn’t like where their conversation was heading. He moved the bottle off of the plate and into his other hand as they approached some sort of cage nestled into the low hanging branches of a tree. Upon closer inspection, it was none other than a butterfly enclosure. Shuichi fidgeted with the cage while balancing everything he was holding in his arms. “He told me that he feeds them himself because he doesn’t plan on letting them free in the Academy.”

“Wow. How interesting.”

Shuichi finally managed to get the enclosure open. Somehow the butterflies seemed content enough to not fly out but simply flutter and twitch their wings slightly. Twitching, wings, insects, bugs. _Ultimate Entomologist’s Research Lab. Locked. Swarm. Buzzing. Flying. Attacking the nose, mouth, eyes. Can’t breathe. Can’t see. Bugs. Everywhere. Suffocating._

Kokichi felt like he was going to puke at the abrupt memory. “One second, Saihara-chan.” Just in case, he went off as far away from Shuichi as his legs could carry him. Vomiting in front of everyone in the courtroom was one thing, but doing it exclusively in front of Shuichi would actually make him lock himself in his room and never come out again.

So, Kokichi took refuge in some random shrubbery to basically dry-heave. Even if he could throw up, he had nothing to give except gastric acid. He couldn’t even force himself to eat anything when he had gone into the kitchen after Monokuma and Shuichi promised that the food wasn’t poisoned. Food wasn’t appeasing. It was getting harder and harder to trust everyone. He really was slowly dyin—

“Harumaki, let’s just hide the new motive that Monokuma gave us.”

Kokichi sucked in his next breath so quickly, he was almost left gasping for the next one.

“From Saihara and Ouma?”

“Yeah, who the fuck else would we hide it from? We gotta come up with a plan where we both can escape too.”

“I’ll think of something then.”

“Good, ‘cause I’m leaving it to you!”

“Of course you are…”

_It’s just another delusion. Just another delusion._

He looked around. No one was there. Maki and Kaito were idiots, but Kokichi knew that they were at least smart enough to not scheme out in the open.

∴

It was the middle of the afternoon so Kokichi couldn’t use the excuse that it was “too early” or “too late” for looking at breathtaking things. Shuichi’s fingers were dripping with the substance that had surely been inside of the bottle and at least six butterflies were practically glued to left hand and there had to be eight on his right. He smiled when he saw Kokichi approaching. If it couldn’t be “too early” or “too late” to feel all heart fluttery, then what type of excuse could he come up with?

“I accidentally spilled some of the honey-sugar on my hands…” Shuichi moved his hand slightly but the butterflies were unperturbed. Another one even flew out of the enclosure and joined the bunch on Shuichi’s right hand. There was a kaleidoscope of intricate patterns that dotted Shuichi’s paler hands with a beautiful vibrancy. And the way that the sunlight was bathing everything it touched in gold and – oh, God – this was worse than the fireplace. Shuichi looked _angelic_. From the soft curves of his smile to the slight pinkness that rubbed at his cheeks and nose because there was a chill outside. That had to be illegal. Kokichi was going to develop heart problems before the concussion could do anything to him.

“Hey, Ouma-kun,” Shuichi tilted his hands this way and that to further prove that the butterflies were sticking and not planning on going anywhere any time soon, “Gonta-kun wouldn’t hurt a fly—literally—and he wouldn’t hurt another soul. Momota-kun is determined to help us all escape and he’s the one who gets the most upset whenever someone dies, but he always tries to hide it behind this ‘hero’ persona he keeps up. I believe in the friendship that I have built with Harukawa-san and I trust that she wouldn’t risk our lives to escape. And I feel the same way about Yumeno-san, Shirogane-san, Kiibo-kun, and you too.” Shuichi held his hand out. Kokichi wasn’t sure what to do. What to do with Shuichi’s words or his proffered hand or his head or anything and everything else.

There were some things that Kokichi could never get used to, such as touching Shuichi. The moment their skin made contact, the butterflies scurried right back into their enclosure. Kokichi allowed an exaggerated frown to take over his already present one. “Seems like butterfly-chan doesn’t like me as much as it likes Saihara-chan.”

“W-What?” Shuichi’s laugh was something musical. Was that a sappy thing to say? Absolutely. But it was true. Speaking of sap, Kokichi used the same finger that he had touched Shuichi’s knuckle with to scoop up some of the nectar that was beginning to drip down from the other’s fingertips. The back of his hands had been cool, but his fingers and palm were warm enough. “Did you just give the butterflies an honorific?”

“I’m just being polite.”

“That’s…” Shuichi shook his head. There were over a million words that could fill in the blank. Kokichi licked the sweetened honey he had collected from his fingers. It tasted… not too bad. Its aftertaste was certainly something in between bitterness and honesty though.

Shuichi interlocked their hands together after he properly closed the enclosure. (They were holding hands for no reason, why was life being so nice all of a sudden?) Was holding a hand sticky with artificial nectar worse than holding a sweaty one? Perhaps. Would Kokichi trade it for anything in the world? Never. Especially when he had a front row seat to watching Shuichi attempt to lick up the remaining honey residue from his free hand.

“Are you feeling better now, Ouma-kun?”

 _No_. The answer was no. A little bit of honey dribbled down Shuichi’s bottom lip and he wiped it up with his thumb. Yeah – Kokichi’s heart was about to pound outside of his chest and he was probably on the verge of digging his nails into the other’s hand – the answer was a big, fat _no_.

“Sai~ha~ra-chan, don’t ask questions that you already know the answer to. I’m perfectly fine!”

“Hey, Shuichi, is that you over there?” Shuichi and Kokichi immediately dropped hands. Of course Kaito had to be the one to ruin it all. “Ooh, you’re with Ouma? Well,” Kaito tossed his arm over Shuichi’s shoulders, “you’ve been hoggin’ him all day, we gotta take turns you know!” Shuichi flashed Kokichi an apologetic look before he was whisked away.

Kokichi was left alone once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> > _hello, employee 23!_   
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>> 09 19-05-05 25-15-21.
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>> _thank you for coming back to revisit your files! we will update you soon._


	4. PART II OF PART II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> loveisagame.  
> 震 | _thunder; shake, quiver._  
>  脳震盪 ( _nōshintō_ , lit. _concussion_ )
> 
> symptoms include: disinhibition (unable to act in a relaxed and natural way because of self-consciousness or mental restraint), difficulties regulating body temperature—anxiety, depression, stress, and lack of sleep can make tinnitus (ringing or buzzing in ears) worse.

Kokichi almost tripped over a rock.

Well, it was more like slab of stone with something scribbled on it. He wasn’t sure if it was genuinely a sequence of nonsensical characters or if he just couldn’t fucking read. Not being able to focus on the books and poison bottles in Shuichi’s research lab and Miu and Kiibo (not like those two’s opinions mattered though) saying that his blueprints were gibberish… He must have stared at the stone for a good few minutes but trying to make sense of the words made him feel like there was some type of memory being held above his head, just dangling out of his reach and jumping away from his hands before he could even try to grasp it.

The grass was crunching around him. Maybe. Most likely. He looked around. Miu was about to walk past him. _Are you going to freak out again like last time?_

“Hey, what the fuck are ya lookin’ at?!” Miu stomped her foot right in front of him. “And why’re you on the ground? Tryin’ to get an eyeful of my delicates?” She burst out into laughter. “I’ll let ya look up my skirt just this once! Try not to cream your pants while you do though!” Kokichi guessed that it was time to get to his feet.

“I’m not sure what Iruma-chan is talking about.” Kokichi brushed off any dirt that might have gotten on his clothes. “There’s nothing ‘delicate’ about her.”

“W-What? Are ya ready for round two or something? Kiibot’s not here, so I can get as fired up as I want to now!” A second round to their unfinished little squabble from earlier? Kokichi was down.

“Well,” he sighed loudly, “if it’s not too much for Iruma-chan to handle. I mean, she calls herself a ‘genius’ but she couldn’t even interpret perfectly fine blueprints.”

“God, you’re still goin’ on about that? You literally gave me pure horse shit, how the fuck was I supposed to read that?”

“You keep using that same tired excuse.” He even yawned for emphasis. “I got you figured out. You don’t want to work with me anymore because you’re planning on betraying everyone and causing another killing, aren’t you?” _Why did she shrink back at that?_

“I-I-It doesn’t matter whether or not I make you what you want or whatever—there’s gonna be a killing anyway. I-It’s fucking inevitable. And judging from your new little anger issues and you bein’ super paranoid for no reason—oh yeah, I heard about your little freak out this morning from Tar-shit-zan the Jolly Green Giant Flycatcher—you’re gonna be next. People always act more fucked up than usual before they kill or get killed.”

“Wha—No, _you’re_ next. Try to kill one of us and see what happens, Iruma-chan.”

“Eh,” she waved her hand, “I’m not the one gettin’ more and more useless by the day. Just because you’re hangin’ off of Shithara’s left nut twenty-four seven lately doesn’t make you magically invincible, you know.”

“I can say the same for Iruma-chan and Kiiboob.”

“Ooh yeah? What, are ya, _jealous_?”

“As if I’d ever be jealous of Kiibone. Speaking of bones, he can’t even get boners can he? Iruma-chan has to be a _real_ big fucking weirdo to go after him.” Miu looked like she had choked on her own spit. “Hm? Got nothing to say, dog shit for brains?”

“W-Wh—?!”

“Sorry, what was that, Miss Piggy? I’m going to need Iruma-chan to enunciate.”

“Yo—!”

“C’mon, you can sound it out. I believe in you!”

“Um…” Kokichi and Miu’s heads both turned to the left. Tsumugi shifted from one foot to the other and rubbed the inside of her arm. She looked as uncomfortable as a person could get. “I came to find you guys because Yumeno-san found something and wants to announce it to everyone in the cafeteria. Yeah…” She turned on her heel and walked in the direction of the dining hall. Miu scoffed and walked up ahead of her. Kokichi moved just behind Tsumugi. His new pace was much more sluggish especially in comparison to the carefree skip he used to walk with. “Um, is everything okay?” Tsumugi murmured. “It felt plain tense between you two a second ago.” Kokichi could only shrug. “Right…”

∴

Kokichi stood behind Shuichi. Their bodies were just a hair’s length apart. It looked like Miu and Kokichi were the last people needed to form the group. Himiko still asked if everyone was there and did a headcount on her tiptoes like they were some type of first grade class anyway. As she cleared her throat Kokichi took interest in Shuichi’s jacket. He tugged at the hem of it. Shuichi glanced at him with a raised eyebrow but didn’t stop him. He grabbed on to the side of his jacket and let his hand rest there.

“Okay, now let me tell the full story,” Himiko started. “I was on my way to the bathroom when, suddenly, Monokuma appeared. He popped up, scared me, made me wet myself a little— _almost_ , and then he threw something in the air and it almost hit me in the head and knocked me out, and then I decided to call this meeting so we can all look at it at the same time.”

“I bet it’s a replacement motive!” Kaito said.

“I wonder why Monokuma would deliberately give it to just Yumeno-san if it’s something as important as a motive though…” Tsumugi murmured.

“Well, Monokuma said that he was planning on hiding it but I ended up finding him out so he just gave it to me.” Himiko shrugged and began to unfold the note in her hands. Normally Kokichi would interject with his own comment about how odd the entire situation was, but he didn’t. He preoccupied himself with a loose thread on Shuichi’s jacket pocket as he waited for Himiko to read to them. “‘Because everyone pissed me off destroying my perfectly good keycard, we are now officially celebrating Monokuma’s Super Duper Special Casino Takeover Day—officially sponsored by the Hotel Kumasutra! Everyone head to the casino to test your luck and claim your brand new prizes!”

“You didn’t have to sound so excited as you read that…” Tsumugi said under her breath.

“A ‘Casino Takeover Day’?” Maki crossed her arms. “I’m not going.”

Himiko turned the note over. “‘If a student does not report to the casino by the end of the day then they will receive detention from the headmaster for their display of willful disobedience.’”

“Well, that’s just great,” Maki sighed.

“Hey, don’t sound so sad, Harumaki.” Kaito clapped her on the back. (Which, judging from the classic glare she was giving him yet he always ignored, she didn’t seem to like very much.) “I’ll go first to check it out and I’ll tell everybody if it’s something to be scared about. How about that? I bet it’s nothing to fucking worry about anyway.” He left the cafeteria at that. Maki re-crossed her arms and followed after him in silence.

“Hey,” Miu grabbed Kiibo’s arm, “we’re goin’ next! The note said ‘prizes,’ I bet they’re gonna take ‘em all to themselves!” They then left.

“Gonta is interested in prizes.”

“Me too. Let’s go together then, shall we?” Tsumugi and Gonta then left.

“H-Hey, don’t forget about me!” Himiko then left.

Shuichi and Kokichi were alone.

“I can feel your hand shaking…” Despite that, Kokichi still didn’t let go of Shuichi’s jacket. “I figured that Monokuma was going to do this but at the same time I didn’t want to believe it. Mainly because Angie-san once broke a Flashback Light and we didn’t get a replacement or any repercussions for that. I thought it could apply to this situation too…”

“I don’t want to go to the casino.”

“Oh? Well... I don’t either, but we kind of have to. I don’t want ‘detention.’ It sounds like a glorified execution or something. But… it’s going to be fine, Ouma-kun. We’re going to resist whatever Monokuma throws at us. We always do. Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah, I guess. Everyone else was running like puppies to their deaths so we might as well too.”

“No,” they walked out of the cafeteria, “I don’t think we’re literally walking to our deaths.”

“But you agree with me on the puppy part?”

“Um, some of us were a little too excited to see a potential motive, I will say that.”

Kokichi began to swing the hand that he had on Shuichi a little. “Well, I’m naturally a high roller so maybe I should have some pep in my step too. I mean, I _am_ secretly the Ultimate Gambler for a reason. I shouldn’t be worried about a thing.”

“Ah, this might be uncomfortable.” Shuichi shook Kokichi’s hand from his jacket and relocated it to his own. They were only a few yards from the casino though, what a fruitless endeavor. “I don’t know about the ‘Ultimate Gambler’ part but, you’re right, you shouldn’t worry.” He squeezed Kokichi’s hand before he entered the casino first.

∴

It didn’t look like there was anything wrong with Shuichi once he came back out. Kokichi wasn’t sure if that was an entirely good thing or a bad thing. “I’ll wait for you to come out.” Kokichi nodded and then entered.

The casino didn’t look different from what he remembered through the bits of his memory, sans the giant machine that was in the center of the room. A tacky sign saying _SUPER♡MONOULETTE: LOVE IS LIKE THE LOTTERY!!_ in horrendous handwriting – it was a miracle that Kokichi could read it, but he still managed to read it nonetheless so he had to pat himself on the back for that – hung above it. It was a giant pink heart-shaped roulette machine with an equally pink revolver attached to the top. Some scatted neon lights glowed in and out all around it.

Monophanie and Monokuma jumped up beside the revolver (and Monotaro was asleep on the floor beside the machine). Together, the Monokub and Monokuma said, “We proudly present SUPER♡MONOULETTE!”

“Yeah, I can read the sign.” Kokichi pointed upward before he took a step toward the machine.

“Do you like it?” Monophanie asked. “I made it all by myself, singlehandedly, with no help because some of us were too busy sleeping and some of us were too busy making last minute orders.”

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” Monokuma muttered. “Anywho, way of the game is as follows: play roulette then you gotta play Russian roulette. Take a look at my beautiful wheel!”

“That _I_ built—!”

“Pipe it, Monophanie!” Monokuma tapped the machine with his foot and the roulette section of it fully lit up. “Lookie here! We got two zero pink spaces that are Good Luck and then half and half black and white. The black spaces are Bad Luck and the white spaces are No Luck. All you gotta do is pick a number and see if you can guess what place you’ll get right or not!

“If you guess correctly and get a Good Luck space then you’re exempt from playing Russian roulette and you’ll play the Perfect Game—which you have a one-hundred percent chance of winning, guaranteed! Guess correctly and get a No Luck space means you play Russian roulette with the Your Luck Draw—you can load the gun with however many bullets you want! Guess right with a Bad Luck space, you get the Bad Luck Draw and half of the gun’s chambers are filled. Guessing wrong during roulette means you automatically get the Lucky Student Draw, meaning five out of six of the gun’s chambers are loaded. Now that we all understand the rules, are you ready to play Monoulette?”

“Um… That doesn’t sound like how you play roulette.” Most likely. At this rate, Kokichi probably didn’t even remember the rules for Go Fish.

“Eh, doesn’t matter. And it’s called _Mono_ ulette for a reason. Now hurry up and play unless you want consequences.”

“Fiiine.” Kokichi studied the numbers on the wheel. Yeah, he didn’t know what he was doing. “I’m gonna make an, um, inside bet. Straight up on six and twenty-one—because that’s probably my birthday—and nine and seven—because that’s probably someone else’s birthday. And go outside for one to twelve too.”

“Ah!” Monophanie hopped down from the top of the machine and on to the side of the roulette wheel. “I don’t know all this technical lotto mumbo jumbo, but I think I heard some numbers, so…” She spun the wheel around nonetheless.

The good news: it landed on a No Luck space. The bad news: it landed on the number twenty-three – none of Kokichi’s numbers. Well, it was all bad news then, it didn’t matter what space it landed on if Kokichi guessed the wrong number.

“Oop, looks like you guessed wrong!” _That didn’t sound right_. Ouma Kokichi wasn’t one to lose a game. “Looks like you’re getting the Lucky Student Draw! That’s a sixteen point seven percent chance of winning.” Monokuma sounded a little too excited. “Monophanie, load up the gun!”

“Aye, aye, Daddy!” She scampered back up to the Russian roulette part of the machine, stepped behind the gun, and began to fiddle with it just out of Kokichi’s sight. She couldn’t be loading actual bullets into it. It didn’t look like a real gun, just an enlarged plastic one that kids would squirt water out of. There shouldn’t be anything to worry about.

“You know,” Kokichi crossed his arms, “this is a very elaborate and unnecessary way of serving a punishment. Why couldn’t you just dish out a basic motive that everyone has to deal like usual and call it a day? You see,” Kokichi yawned – in reality it was an excuse to close his eyes before the whooshing neon lights became too overwhelming, “I’m already getting bored, Monokuma-chan.”

“Well I guess you could say that I was feeling a special spark, so I came up with this.”

“Did _you_ feel a spark or did the Ringleader feel it?”

“Hurry up and play,” Monokuma grumbled, “before I get trigger happy and prematurely wreak havoc.”

“Fine, fine. I’m secretly the Ultimate Gamer so I know I’m going to win this round.”

“Eh, ‘Ultimate Gamer’ is more like video game territory. Gambling and casino games are kinda out of bounds for that title.”

“Fine, then I’m actually the Ultimate Lucky Student. How’s that?”

“Hey, you’re ripping off the name of the draw! But you do seem like the kinda guy who would play Russian roulette like this, huh? Putting five bullets in the gun and leaving only one chamber open. Edgy!”

Monophanie straightened up again. “It’s ready!” The gun leaned downward slightly, not exactly completely in front of Kokichi’s face but close enough so that he could hear its chambers whirling around at lightning speed. It was getting dizzying to listen to and was just encroaching in on hissing and popping territory when—BANG! A red flag literally with the word _BANG!_ shot out of the gun and Monokuma’s laughter filled up Kokichi’s ears instead.

“Looks like you won yourself a punishment!!”

“Huh, what? No, that can’t be righ—”

“No, no, no! Let me cut you off before you get all delusional on me too. There is absolutely, positively _no_ cheating or rigging in my beautiful casino. Everything’s fair and up to chance, kid! Ooh, and you’re not allowed to unveil whether or not you have received the punishment motive or else you’ll get detention for that too~! Now go to your room—ASAP.”

∴

Shuichi was waiting outside of the casino, just like he said he would. Thinking back to how Shuichi had walked out perfectly fine, he must have not received punishment. Nighttime hours looked like they were steadfast approaching too, the stars were already out and twinkling in their confusing rhythm.

“Do you want to walk around the courtyard really quick before we go to our rooms?” That was an offer Kokichi knew he would be crazy to say no to. Their hands brushed against each other as they walked, but neither one of them tried to initiate anything. “Are… you nervous?”

“Nope. What a weird question, Saihara-chan. Should I be nervous?”

“Well… I don’t feel nervous for myself but I do for the others…” Was he just trying to imply that he didn’t receive punishment? What was Kokichi supposed to do with that information? Congratulate him? It didn’t do anything to change the fact that _he_ was about to receive punishment, and soon. Probably the moment that he stepped into his room.

“Ugh, I don’t want to go to my room. Someone could break in during my punishment and kill me.”

“That’s a little, um, extreme, but it’s going to be okay.” Shuichi finally took his hand but they were already inside of the dormitory. Shuichi needed to learn how to time things better. “I think the nighttime announcement is about to come any minute…” Neither of them were letting go of the other though.

“Exactly, but Saihara-chan is a little too weak and simpleminded to be by himself so I don’t think I should leave you alone right now.” Shuichi gave him a weird look. And it wasn’t exactly an insulted look but something else, something that Kokichi didn’t quite have the capability of slapping a label on to – probably not before and especially not now. “What is it? Do I have something on my face?”

“No. I just wanted to say that everything’s going to be okay, Ouma-kun.”

“Ugh, you keep saying that all the time lately. Don’t you have any new lines to give me?”

“Um, when tomorrow morning comes, knock on my door, alright? If you want to talk to me that is.”

Kokichi shrugged. “I guess. But that’s probably not going to happen.”

“No, I can _bet_ that that’s going to happen.”

“Did you—?”

“Y-Yes, sorry. I won’t tell any more lame jokes. Goodnight.” _Don’t leave me_. Kokichi tugged on his hand until Shuichi turned back to him. “Hm?”

“Mothers usually give their kids a goodnight kiss before they go to bed, you know.”

“O-Ooh, um…” Shuichi leaned down and pressed a kiss against the top of Kokichi’s head. He couldn’t even feel it but his heart was still about to beat through his chest which was lamer than the pun Shuichi had the audacity to make. “T-There, how’s that?”

“ _Terrible_. If I was a kid, how am I supposed to go to sleep with _that_? That was so halfhearted it would make me feel like my mother doesn’t care about me or someth—” Shuichi leaned down again, and it was over in the matter of a second, but at least Kokichi could feel it, the quick peck against his cheek.

They both remained silent for at least a good minute or two before Shuichi broke it with, “L-L-Let’s just pretend that never happened,” and untangled their hands from each other. _Please, don’t leave me alone_.

“W-Wooow, Saihara-chan must secretly be the Ultimate Boy Crush!” That at least got Shuichi’s hand away from his doorknob.

“‘Boy… Crush’?” He slowly repeated.

“Ooh, even your English is cute~! But if you want I could teach you how to speak it without an accent. I’m fluent in over fifty languages so it would be nothing for me. How else would my organization go international if I wasn’t?”

“Hey, Ouma-kun.” Shuichi smiled. The motion was unsteady and his lips quivered around the edges. “Thank you, but we have to go now. We don’t want ‘detention’ for not being in our rooms, right?”

“I guess.”

“Just come to my room tomorrow morning.” Shuichi closed the door before Kokichi could confirm or deny if he was even going to show up.

∴

The monitor came on. Monokuma was present alongside the Monokubs. He was wearing a transparent green visor, reminiscent of the eyeshades that the dealers at casinos and bankers wore, and was sitting at the head of a blue table with his kubs on either side. It looked like they had the setup for poker but in actuality it looked like they were playing Go Fish.

“Daddy,” Monophanie collected a card from the deck, “why are we playing this?”

“Weelll, we were gonna play chess or something but that doesn’t really fit in the casino theme and that’s sooo _last fic_ so I decided on poker—or should I say whatever we’re playing right now! Anyways, number one rule of Monokuma’s Casino Day is no sleeping! Rule number two is to have fun! The schedule for the night is gonna be on the television screen for everybody that’s getting punished, so hang on tight.”

Kokichi heard a flicker to his right. The television had never turned on to his recollection. The monitor always did with announcements but he could have sworn that the TV was as good as mere decoration. White text appeared on the screen. It looked like there was going to be— “There’s going to be five events tonight!” What was the point of thinking when Monokuma could just read for you? Kokichi lied back against his bed. “All of the events—Cold Hour, Hot Hour, Loud Hour, Silent Hour, and the Final Dead Hour—are going to be an hour and fifty-nine minutes long.”

“If they’re an hour and fifty-nine minutes long then technically they’re not hour long events,” Kokichi muttered.

“Monotaro,” Monophanie peeked up from her cards, “did you hear anything?”

Monotaro shook his head. “Nope!”

“Anywho,” Monokuma picked up, “Monokuma’s Super Duper Special Mega Ultra Casino Day—sponsored by the Hotel Kumasutra—beings at eleven! So be there or be square!” The “schedule” on the television disappeared and was replaced by a timer. Kokichi only had two minutes left.

He pulled his body off of his bed and tried the door. Locked. As expected. The bathroom door wasn’t locked at least.

“The rooms have been altered just for the event, including locked doors and new sound absorbent walls! Which are basically the opposite of soundproof walls because they absorb sound, you know. All alternations to rooms will be gone once Casino Day is over, blah, blah, blah. Just saying because people get so picky, you know? I mean, I have common sense sometimes. I’m not just going to permanently lock everyone in their rooms. The people upstairs won’t let me anyway.”

One minute left.

“Who’re the people upstairs, Daddy?”

“You know who they are. Got any—Wait, what number is this?”

“I think that’s a three.”

“I dunno, Monotaro, I don’t think I can trust you.”

“I think it’s a three too, Daddy!”

Thirty seconds left.

“Ooh, lookie, it’s almost time! My fur’s just itching in excitement!!”

Ten seconds left.

“I have a confession. I don’t know how to play this game.”

“We all already knew that, Monotaro.”

Kokichi laid himself back on his bed once the timer hit zero. _This is really happening, huh?_ He was going to be preoccupied with nothing but his thoughts and whatever the hell Monokuma was going to do to him all night. The timer disappeared from the TV and it was replaced with simple large text again:

22:00 – 23:59  
_COLD HOUR_  
START!

The temperature in the room was steadily dropping lower and lower.

It was growing unbearable.

“Hey, Monokuma-chan!” Kokichi wrapped his blankets around his body. “Are you allowed to directly torture your students?”

They were paying attention to him now. Monokuma shrugged. “Aren’t I technically always torturing students when you think about it?” The Monokubs nodded.

Not only was Kokichi getting pissed off, but something felt off. He grasped around his cluttered bed (he figured that it was better to put some things on the bed instead of just on the floor to reduce the risk of tripping and hitting his head again) for a minute before he finally found what he wanted: his Monopad. He opened up the tab that held the Ultimate Academy Regulations.

“Wow, won’t you look at that. It’s just what I thought. You’re breaking rule number nine: you’re not supposed to directly participate in a murder.”

“Huh? How so?”

“Well, I don’t know if you’re aware of this or not, but I’m a ‘little sick’ so this whole punishment is just going to fuck me up and kill me if you think about it.”

“Ugh, stop being such a drama queen. I’m not gonna kill ya. The most I’ll do is have you lose consciousness or something. The people upstairs would be _really, really, really_ mad if I killed you. Why do you think this monitor is still on for you? So I can keep my wonderful eyes on you and _monitor_ your health!”

“That’s a good one, Daddy!”

“Thank you, favorite child! Are you kids ready for a hot chocolate break?”

“Yeah!”

“What’s hot chocolate?”

It was getting colder and colder. Kokichi could see the breath from his nose turn into vapor right before his eyes. His body couldn’t stop shivering no matter how tightly he wrapped the blankets around himself. Was the goal of “Cold Hour” to push him to the edge of hypothermia? It really was outright torture.

“This really is torture,” Kokichi repeated to himself. Not even his own breath was warm anymore. He tucked the covers over his face. His nose and lips had long already gone numb but he could at least attempt to spare the rest of his face. “Torture, torture, torture,” he repeated to himself over and over again.

_And whose fault is it?_

“T-Their fault,” Kokichi gasped out through the teeth chatters. He was sure that his fingers were on the verge of turning blue. He tucked them underneath his shirt and leaned back against the bedframe to hold the blanket in place.

_Whose fault exactly?_

“I-Iruma. And the robot. And Harukawa. M-Momota. Shirogane. Yumeno. G-G-Gonta.”

_It’s their fault._

“T-T-Their fault.”

0:00 – 1:59  
_HOT HOUR_  
START!

The temperature was at a comfortable degree for only a split second before it became sweltering all too quickly. Being pushed to the edge of freezing so suddenly and then to the polar opposite edge of heat exhaustion was all way too much. Kokichi had long abandoned his blanket cocoon and jacket – but they weren’t going to shame him into removing his clothes. Monokuma couldn’t make it _that_ hot right? It would kill him, surely. And “the people upstairs,” whoever was watching him, wouldn’t like that.

But there was enough humiliation in the display that Kokichi was surely giving with his stomach in knots and hair drenched in sweat and sticking to his forehead. There had been nothing else for him to do but lay spread-eagle on the newly cleared spot on his floor and watch his skin grow paler and feel his heart beat accelerate. He was already seeing stars on the floor, he couldn’t imagine how he would feel if he stood up any time soon.

And the cherry on top was that Kokichi had never felt so tired in his life, but with the number rule of Monokuma’s Casino Day being “no one being punished is allowed to fall asleep” there was a little bit of a damper on his plans.

Instead of sleep, he was greeted with a mirage. And he wasn’t sure if being aware that he was hallucinating was a good thing or not. Well, suddenly seeing puddles of water surrounding him _had_ to be a mirage. He would be absolutely out of his mind to think that they were real.

The whispering felt pretty real too.

_“Let’s just wait until Saihara leaves his room—”_

_“And then we’re all gonna take this rope and fucking wrap Slowhara’s neck around it until it snaps off, right?”_

_“We have to. How else are we going to all escape at the same time? Unless we want to use a spell that can guarantee escape? I haven’t used it before because my mania was too low, but Momota helped me build it back up so I could do it now if you want?”_

_“And then during the class trial, Gonta and friends will vote for Ouma-kun, right?”_

_“Yup! It’s the best plain way to play the system: everyone can become the Blackened except one person and then incorrectly vote for the Blackened thus resulting in the person who was left out to be the only one to receive punishment for voting ‘incorrectly’ and then we all can escape.”_

_“Ouma-kun would never see it coming either.”_

If Kokichi had the strength he would have covered his ears, but the cramp that seized up in his arms whenever he even tried to shift them to a more comfortable position wasn’t helping him accomplish anything.

2:00 – 3:59  
_LOUD HOUR_  
START!

Concussions could make ears sensitive. Everybody fucking knew that.

Kokichi’s ears were doing something worse than simply hissing and popping and ringing, they were _screeching_. Every inch, every iota of his body was _screeching_. The moment the engulfing heat had unstuck him from the ground, he raced to his bed and wrapped his pillows and blankets around his head to help block out the sound and hold his hands to his ears, but it wasn’t working. He could still hear _it_.

He could recognize the sound too. It was the music that played when the time limit was coming for their first motive. He could remember now. Images of Rantaro’s body flashed before his mind with his skull all bashed in and leaking out way too much blood. Images of Kaede’s body hanging on full display while everyone was forced to watch.

And if he strained his ears hard enough – which was the _last thing_ he wanted to do anyway – he could hear something that could be labeled as none other than Shuichi’s screams thrown into the mix.

4:00 – 5:59  
_SILENT HOUR_  
START!

It was so overwhelmingly quiet that Kokichi couldn’t even hear his own voice.

The first ten minutes of the punishment had consisted of Kokichi yelling Monokuma’s name over and over again and then curses and other things that he was sure weren’t words. Anyone would be at least the teeniest bit freaked out if the atmosphere suddenly switched ear-bleeding to suffocating-ly silent.

Then the next approximate five minutes or so consisted of whispering Shuichi’s name, whispering D.I.C.E., whispering anything that was remotely comforting.

But now he had succumbed to the silence and allowed for it to consume him.

And the best part about the punishment was that he was literally caged to his bed. He was learning the lesson that the human body needed noise to properly ordinate itself the hard way, meaning he literally couldn’t even move until it was over.

Is this what it felt like to be paralyzed or to be in a coma? What if he had hit his head in all the wrong places and truly ended up as a burden for his fellow inmates, especially Shuichi? What a nightmare. He wouldn’t be able to end things himself then if he wasn’t able to move. If he could speak he would probably end up doing something pitiful like begging for someone to kill him. But who would be willing to do such a thing? Probably everyone. But he didn’t want just anyone to do it and escape and leave everyone behind. But he couldn’t bear for Shuichi to be a murderer either, that was out of the question.

What also was out of the question was the turn his thoughts took. That was the goal of torture: to scramble up a person’s thoughts until they went insane. And he wasn’t going to go crazy. Nope. Not at all. Not any time soon. Not if he could help it.

The entire time he had been straining his ears, trying to pick out any possible tidbit of sound through the sea of deafness he was drowning in. But if he relaxed and allowed himself to fall just a little bit deeper into the depths, he could just barely hear the thumping of his heart and the faint inspire of his lungs as they slowly but surely inflated and deflated with oxygen.

6:00 – 7:59  
_FINAL DEAD HOUR_  
ORYVIZGRLM!

Kokichi was just beginning to flex his fingers when the television started flashing. _WHAT ARE YOUR WORST FEARS?_ The characters kept flicking until they were practically burned behind his eyelids but for some reason he couldn’t look away.

A putrid odor invaded the room. Boiled pigs’ feet, Kokichi’s favorite. It was at least two steps above nauseating. Thank God the TV hadn’t hypnotized him to the point where he was completely immobile like Silent Hour had invoked. He could barely reach up to cover his nose though, looks like there was a restriction involving any attempts to cover his eyes. His already weakened hands would tremble violently if his fingernails even dared to even so much as to graze his bottom lashes.

What are Ouma Kokichi’s worst fears? They appeared across the screen. There for a split second and gone the next but never the less still effective, like he was continually being pushed off the edge of a building and right before he could slam face first into the ground he was strung right back up to the top and pushed off again – the adrenaline never stopped, it intensified. Killing, dying, anyone from D.I.C.E. dying, being killed, Shuichi dying, someone killing Shuichi – _Shuichi’s body hanging_ , rope, blood splatters. _It’s not real, it’s not real, it’s not real_. None of it was real.

 _It is real_.

He didn’t even have to strength to cover his nose anymore. “I-It’s not re—”

 _It_ is _real_.

“N-No—!”

_Real. Real. Real. Real. Real. Real._

Whoever was watching him must be having the time of their lives now, seeing Kokichi gag and sputter and shake and switch between yelling and whispering to himself. But that person didn’t matter. They were unreachable for all he knew. The people that _were_ reachable though, they were all out to get him. He was trapped in this godforsaken Academy, away from his real friends – and God knows what happened to them, and everyone was coming after him. Everyone. Everyone was coming after him. Everyone was coming after Shuichi too – the only person that cares about him and that he gave a fuck about anymore.

And there was only one thing he could do about it. Only one thing. One thing. One thing. _One thing_.

He was going to die anyway. Korekiyo was going to fucking kill him, or this punishment was, or everyone else was. Only one thing to do about it. He was rocking himself back and forth on the edge of the bed. _There’s only one thing to do about it_.

∴

The morning announcement played the moment the Final Dead Hour was over. Monokuma had taken over Monophanie and Monotaro’s places though. The fear of a possible body discovery announcement didn’t even register in Kokichi’s mind. He sat on the edge of his bed, looking up, waiting patiently like the good little boy he was for Monokuma to say what he had to say.

“I am sad to say that Monokuma’s Super Duper Casino Takeover Day—sponsored by the lovely Hotel Humasutra; you guys should _really_ visit it sometime—is now officially over. So everyone from the punished to the unpunished are now allowed to leave their rooms! And, to the ones who received punishment and are now specially inducted into Monokuma’s Players’ Club,” Monokuma’s claws shot out of his paw as he raised it in the air, “show no mercy! Show everybody what you’re made of!” The door clicked. It must have been unlocked. Kokichi moved to his feet. “Time to let my animals out of the zoo! Go crazy! And remember: _don’t hold back_!!” The funny thing was that Kokichi had already gone crazy.

Now all that was left was to not hold back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> > _ hello, employee 23!  
> your request for “motive315131_monoulette.doc” has been reviewed but unfortunately denied on the grounds of “EXCESSIVE AND EXCLUSIVE PSYCHOLOGICAL TORTURE OF GAME PLAYERS.”  
> [see employee handbook, section 12.9.5: motive guidelines, for more details on why your motive has been denied.]  
> thank you for your contribution to team danganronpa.  
> please wait… _


	5. PART ? OF PART III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ithurtshelpmozvivygmzxhrsg—  
> 盪 | _melt, enchanted, captivated._  
>  脳震盪 ( _nōshintō_ , lit. _concussion_ )
> 
> symptoms include: sense that “you don’t feel like yourself,” denial, lack of awareness.

It had to be well over ten minutes after the morning announcement and still no Kokichi. Shuichi felt like his worries were justified—

Finally, a _knock_. It was a little on the heavy-handed side though, but Shuichi still rushed and stumbled over to his door as fast as he could. He should have known: Kaito. His friend had his hands on his hips and a smile that was always too pearly and wide for the first thing in the morning. “Mornin’, Shuichi!”

“Good morning, Momota-kun.” Shuichi figured that it was time to step outside his room at least. He took it as an opportunity to look around the dormitory. Still no Kokichi.

“Are we allowed to reveal our results yet?” Kaito let out a loud sigh. “Geez, that entire game was so fucking stupid. I even put an extra bullet in the ‘revolver’ and I _still_ won. Casinos can’t get enough of Momota Kaito, Luminary of the Stars and the Luckiest Man Alive!”

“Ah, but there was that one time when you kept losing against Hoshi-ku—”

Kaito quickly waved Shuichi off. “Has Harumaki been around yet?” Shuichi shook his head. “I knocked on her door first and she didn’t answer so I thought that maybe she told you she was going somewhere or someth—” A door slammed overhead of them. Shuichi and Kaito immediately looked up. Speaking of the devil, Maki, arms crossed, took her usual slow, calloused steps towards them. But she wasn’t one to slam doors (at least, not first thing in the morning). It was definitely not a pleasant sight to see Maki more miffed than usual. The slope of her shoulders was hounded over instead of casually slouched, her fingernails were digging into the skin of her forearms, and her eyebrows were furrowed to the point of her forehead tensing in the process. “Mornin’, Harumaki! You doing okay?”

Maki shrugged. Her shoulders barely moved with the motion. “I’m fine.” Her voice was low, scratching on the surface of outright gravely. “The punishment was nothing compared to my training days. It was more of an annoyance than a punishment really.” Shuichi repeated Maki’s words in his mind. _More of an annoyance than a punishment…_ He threw one more glance toward Kokichi’s door before Kaito threw his arms over him and led the way to the cafeteria. Still nothing.

∴

Himiko, Gonta, and Tsumugi didn’t take long to join them in the dining hall. “I was so scared that I was going to lose,” Himiko sighed as Kaito pulled out a seat for her. “When that revolver was spinning, I think I was focusing too hard on it, because I started getting really, really dizzy and then I threw up in my mouth a little but I swallowed it back down because I was so happy that I won.”

Tsumugi sighed. “I agree but, Yumeno-san, you didn’t have to be so descriptive about it…”

“Gonta was wondering if a lot of coins came out of the machine after everyone else played too?”

Everyone shook their heads. “W-What?” Kaito sputtered. “How the fuck did you get that to happen?”

“When Gonta was playing the thing landed on a pink space. Momota-kun didn’t get that to happen either?”

“N-No!” Kaito crossed his arms. “It’s gotta be impossible to play a Perfect fucking Game. That’s whatever anyway. _I_ put an extra bullet in the gun. How ‘bout that?”

“Sounds like stupidity,” Maki muttered.

Kiibo entered the cafeteria but he lingered in the doorway. “Have any of you seen Iruma-san?” Everyone shook their heads again. “Oh… I had knocked on her door but she didn’t answer and I noticed that she wasn’t here so…” Kiibo let himself trail off.

“I don’t pay enough attention to Iruma to notice her.” Maki turned her head and yawned into her hand. Shuichi recalled Monokuma saying that a rule of the punishment was no sleeping allowed before his monitor shut off. He guessed that the show on the monitor was reserved for those who received punishment only.

Observing and recollecting the words of his fellow inmates, it seemed like only Maki was confirmed to receive punishment so far. And with Kokichi and Miu not wanting to leave their rooms, was it possible that they had lost the game also? Miu was one to – to put it in the nicest terms – go with the wind, but she wasn’t a fan of playing around with times to eat, not even when she was going wild with ideas in her research lab for the day. Kokichi showed up to breakfast whenever he wanted to, and sometimes didn’t show up at all. But with Kokichi’s new condition Shuichi understood how difficult it was for him. He was practically caged to his chair and never ate his food anymore during meal times. He didn’t even have the energy to pick at it, it seemed.

“Kiibo-kun,” Shuichi had to ask before he could get pulled too deeply into the ravine of his thoughts, “did you receive punishment?” Kiibo said no. That lowered it down then: Maki was confirmed to receive punishment and Kokichi and Miu were the most eligible bachelors. “That’s odd how only a few of us have possibly received punishment,” Shuichi murmured. He scooted his chair back. “I’m going to go check on Iruma-san and Ouma-kun too.”

“Yeah, Shuichi? I volunteer Harumaki to go with you then!”

Maki picked her head up from the table. “Excuse me?” It was funny how Kaito was usually on the receiving end of her glares and glowers but he was never affected by them and whenever he did notice them, he just brushed them off, such as now.

“I’m too busy eating to go and you need to work your nerves up again after that punishment.” He took a large bite of his breakfast for emphasis.

Shuichi was surprised that Maki stood up anyway and walked back to the dorms with him.

∴

Shuichi tried knocking again. Maki stood a few feet away, arms crossed. “If she doesn’t answer now, she’s never going to—”

The door opened ajar. Only one of Miu’s eyes were visible. “What the fuck do ya want, Shithara?” She snapped. There was more venom to her voice than usual but Shuichi was not perturbed. (Or at least, he tried his best not to show it.)

“I came to ask if you want, um, breakfast? Yeah...” He cleared his throat. “I came to ask if you want breakfast.”

“I’m not hungry. _Fuck off_.” She slammed the door. Well, her odds of receiving punishment increased by the tenfold.

Shuichi moved on to Kokichi’s door. Maki stayed put. No answer.

∴

“Iruma probably received punishment too,” Maki murmured on their way back to the cafeteria.

“Yes, that’s what I was thinking… What happened?”

“What do you mean?” Maki was avoiding the question – obviously.

“What did they do to you?” It was going to be difficult to map out the scope of the punishment if everyone was going to be tightlipped about it.

Maki shrugged. “Fundamental torture methods.” She said it so nonchalantly, as if she was talking about the seasons changing. “About two hours of being in the cold, then the heat, then loudness, then silence, and then…” Her frown deepened. “Some… Some stupid pictures came on the television.” Shuichi barely caught her hurried mutter.

“The television? Not the monitor?” Maki shook her head. “Oh. I didn’t know that those worked. What came on it?”

“Something from the past. They were trying to bother me and it didn’t work.” She held her arms closer to her body and turned away from him. The discussion was over.

∴

“How’s Iruma-san doing?” Kiibo asked. “If you got her to answer her door, that is.”

“She did, actually. She answered but told us she wasn’t hungry and to go away, but in, um, more colorful language. And Ouma-kun didn’t answer his door either. Has anyone seen him?” Shuichi received a collective “no” from the peanut gallery.

“He’s probably just sleepin’ in.” Kaito shrugged. He swallowed down another mouthful of food. “I dunno.”

“What if he received punishment also?” Tsumugi suggested.

“I… I will have to admit that that makes me feel a sense of uneasiness.” Kiibo nervously glanced toward the door. “Ouma-kun is a… _wild card_. If he received the motive, who knows what he would do?”

“I don’t think he’s capable of doing anything to us.” Shuichi’s words were nothing but honesty layered with another hidden truth. Kokichi was physically incapable of doing much of anything. Complex thinking and executing a murder seemed completely out of the question. And even if he was able, Shuichi still believed that he wouldn’t do anything to harm any one of them.

“Yeah,” Kaito said. “I agree with Shuichi. The guy’s annoying but he’s not killer crazy, you know.”

“I don’t think the punishment was something that I consider worth killing over,” Maki chimed in.

“Ah, but Harukawa-san,” Shuichi said, choosing his next words carefully once her cool gaze landed on him, “just because something may be easy for you does not mean it wouldn’t be difficult for anyone else who received punishment. Iruma-san is refusing to come out of her room and Ouma-kun has disappeared for now—anything could have happened to them.” Maki didn’t respond. Shuichi wasn’t expecting one. He picked up his fork, opting to get a start on his breakfast while there was a lull in the conversation.

What he wasn’t expecting at all though was for his fork to suddenly fly out of his hand.

The man of the hour was standing in the entrance of the dining hall. “When will Saihara-chan learn—” his voice was near a whisper; everyone stopped talking “—you can’t trust _anything_ or _anyone_ here. Don’t. Eat. The. Food. It’s poisoned.” His bangs looked like they were stuck to his forehead. He must have been sweating profusely. Maki had mentioned they endured two hours of being in the heat. It hadn’t been all too long ago really. A night full of torture… No wonder Kokichi looked like he was about to topple over at any second.

“Gonta is still confused about why Ouma-kun thinks the food is poisoned. It isn’t, right?”

“No, it isn’t.” Shuichi shook his head toward Gonta before he got to his feet. “Ouma-kun, are you okay?” The answer was clearly no. Shuichi didn’t know why he felt so compelled to hear it from Kokichi’s own mouth though. His swaying form was both part mocking and part hypnotizing. “…O-Ouma-kun?”

Kokichi only blinked. A smooth line of blood slid down from his forehead, traced down the bridge of his nose, down to the tip, and then dripped on to the floor.

Kaito was the first to react. He jumped out of his seat with a yelp. “I-I-I-Is that b-b-b- _blood_? Did he just start fucking _bleeding_ out of _nowhere_?! That shit only happens in horror movies! D-D-Did Ouma get fucking possessed by a ghost or a demon or whatever-the-fuck?!”

“Momota,” Maki muttered, “stop being ridiculous.” Shuichi mentally agreed. He made his way over Kokichi. He must have managed to reopen his cut during his punishment. And what if he lost his balance, fell, and hit his head again? The motive would have technically been successful then and they would lose another friend – worst case scenario.

“Come on, Ouma-kun, I’ll take you back to your room.” It looked like today was going to consist of more futility of trying to feed a bedridden Kokichi and it not working out. Shuichi could live with that though.

Shuichi barely wrapped his arm over Kokichi’s shoulder when he whispered, “She’s coming. Should be right about now…” And he laughed. It was filled with all the mania from before but lacked the effort. And before Shuichi could even begin to ask what, there was a _boom!_ and everything was covered in smoke.

Miu was yelling something unintelligible. Everyone else started yelling in return. Shuichi lost his grip on Kokichi. Chaos ensued.

∴

The outside world looked like the perfect demonstration of Kokichi’s mind: foggy, chaotic, and nonsensical. The paranoia was even personified too, (unfortunately) in the form of Iruma Miu. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that he was her prime target. If Kokichi wasn’t fighting for his life, he would’ve laughed. Miu always had a knack of stupidly predicting situations. How long ago was it when she said that killing was inevitable and people always acted more “fucked up than usual” before they kill or got killed? It seemed like a lifetime ago.

Kokichi could hear her. Sometimes her voice would get closer, sometimes it was farther away. Sometimes it echoed and rang out, sometimes it remained on a stagnant path that twisted and hissed and buzzed directly against his eardrums. It was as disorientating as the smoke.

Miu was so smart and dumb, Kokichi thought as he rounded a corner. Smart for releasing a smoke grenade because whoever was possibly watching them couldn’t see. Dumb for releasing a smoke grenade because Miu herself couldn’t see anything either. He only saw her put on her goggles when she was shakily threatening him in the dormitory when they finally left their rooms.

Kokichi winced and covered his ears after a particular one of her screams speared right through one of his ears and out the other. He held his hand out in front of him. There had to be _somewhere_ to hide. He was drained. His chest burned, his feet ached, his head was pulsating. He touched a door. The girls’ bathroom. It was better than nothing.

He tumbled inside and shut the door with his foot. Smoke had already managed to seep inside the bathroom. Miu was still screaming. He couldn’t tell if she was near or far and Kokichi’s brain kept screeching for him to hide but he didn’t know where. And he could barely balance and he was suddenly tumbling backwards and down – _how did he manage not to hit his head?_ – and into another world entirely.

Hidden rooms were always made to be found accidentally. It was an unwritten rule of nature.

No smoke was inside of the room. It looked like it was sealed tight. Hopefully Miu had no chance of discovering him. Kokichi, one hand on his forehead to wipe away any remaining smears of blood and the other on his chest to try and calm his heart, walked around with wobbly knees and wide eyes. Red and pink and gray registered and swirled around in his head but nothing was clicking. There were about four or five monitors. Chairs of the lounging and single and loveseat variety. Hearts on podiums. A red velvet cloth covering something. He tugged it down. He only managed to catch a peek of a faint blue glow and wires and something possibly resembling Monokuma before the door creaked open.

Kokichi’s hand flew back. The cloth covered the case again. He took a few steps backwards before he forced his body to crouch down behind one of the lounge seats. He saw a long skirt from the gap underneath the seat. There was muttering. “—cameras—ucking see—Why—?” And then, _boom!_ , again. Another smoke grenade. “ _Shit_.” Could Kokichi even trust his own ears anymore though? “O-Ouma-kun?”

Looks like the jig was up. Kokichi, using the couch for support, dragged himself up to his feet. His heartbeat suddenly accelerated and rattled against his chest with the motion. He was nearly knocked off his feet. “Shirogane-chan. Hi. Fancy meeting you here. How’s it going?”

“I-I was running away from Iruma-san’s smoke and I wanted to hide in the nearest place and then I ended up here. We must’ve both accidentally found this place, huh?” She swung her eyes around the room and clasped her hands in front of her skirt. She was standing directly in front of the cloth. “It must be some sort of hidden room, hidden away in plain sight this entire time…”

“‘Hidden away in plain sight,’” Kokichi repeated. Tsumugi blinked. Once, twice.

“Y-Yeah… That’s what I said… Um,” she cleared her throat, “m-maybe this is the room the Ringleader uses t-to _watch_ us or something. Ah, oh… O-Ouma-kun, why are you laughing?” Kokichi wasn’t just laughing. He was in hysterics. Gut-wrenching hysterics, but still worth it.

Through the pain, he choked it out, “I managed to trap the Ringleader~! But my name is ‘Kokichi’ for a reason, huh? Huh, huh, _huh_? ‘Kokichi,’ ‘ _small_ luck.’ See, see, see, when you get an _o-mikuji_ , you don’t want a fucking ‘kokichi.’ You don’t want a small blessing. No, no, you want ‘ _dai_ kichi,’ a great blessing. Hey, Shirogane-chan, was it your idea—that Monoulette game? Did you make that to show me that you’re depriving me of what little luck I have? Are you giving me a great curse instead? ‘Daikyou.’ Wait, wait, wait. That doesn’t make any sense, does it?”

“O-Ouma-kun…”

“ _Daikichi, choukichi, kokichi, kichi, hankichi, suekichi_ —what was I talking about again? Ooh, yeah. Of course. _Of course_ I would discover the Ringleader when I’m getting more and more fucking useless.” He could barely hold himself up anymore. He could feel it. He could feel his heart slowing down. His mind no longer whizzed with thousands of thoughts per second. His legs could barely support his body anymore. He allowed himself to fall back on to the couch, still facing Tsumugi and her clenched, trembling hands and tightly screwed lips. He let out a sigh. “It’s fine though. It’s time for a _coup de grâce_ or whatever. You know, that mercy kill thing cowboys or whatever do to their horses when they’re too weak to go on. My last name is ‘Ouma’ for a reason too. Anyway, enough rambling. Shirogane-chan can kill me now.” He slid his eyes up to meet hers. “It shouldn’t be anything too hard, I know she’s done it before.” She was growing flustered. Kokichi figured that his lying skills, no matter how fucked up his head was, would always be above adequate.

“You know, Ouma-kun,” her words were slow, careful, “with your logic, you could be the mastermind too, you know. I mean, I found _you_ inside of this hidden room first and I didn’t immediately assume that you were the Ringleader.”

“Yeah, of course. Why would you assume that when _you’re_ the Ringleader? Keep up, Shirogane-chan. You see, I know that I’m the least likely candidate to be the mastermind. So therefore everyone else has a chance of being the mastermind. If there was such a really big chance of someone accidentally getting inside of this hidden room, then we would’ve definitely discovered it by now as a group by now. So, so, _so_ there’s a big, big, big chance that you found this secret room on purpose, not on accident. I think Shirogane-chan was running off in a different direction from me when Iruma-chan dropped that first grenade too.”

“I could’ve ran in this direction at any time and just because there’s a small chance of something happening doesn’t mean that it could _never_ happen, Ouma-kun.”

“Ugh, Shirogane-chan.” He laid himself back against the head of the couch, feigning exasperation. In reality he could feel his body beginning to succumb into the familiar field of exhaustion. “Just give it up already,” he whined. “The jig is up. Kill me already, hurry up.” With his new up-side-down view, he could take a closer look at one of the monitors at least. It was completely grayed over with smoke. “Hm, Shirogane-chan probably came in here to look at the cameras to reorient herself, hm? Or were you trying to see if it was possible to see through the footage so that if a murder occurs you’ll be able to confirm who the culprit is? So,” he tried to hold his head back up, “Shirogane-chan, or should I say _Shubou_ gane-chan? Get it? ‘Shubou,’ ‘ringleader’? Whatever. Just do it already. Even though I’m a liar, if you let me out of this alive and I tell everybody, they’ll get curious and investigate your little hideout. Ooh, ooh, ooh! Maybe I can cook up an even better lie than that: Ouma Kokichi the Ringleader. How’s that sound?”

“Ouma-kun, please stop—please stop talking nonsense for at least one second. Something very bad can happen and maybe we’re safe here inside this room for now, but we have no idea about our friends’ whereabouts and Iruma-san obviously has the plain intent to kill. And we’re just… sitting in here… doing nothing about it…”

“Goodie! That’ll make it easier for you because then Iruma-chan will obviously be the killer. So if you can’t see through the smoke on the cameras, you still know what’s going on and then the two of us can vote effectively in the next class trial. Hm, it would be weird if it’s just the two of us alone in the Academy, huh? What’s that going to be like? No, wait, wouldn’t the killing game end then if there’s two Spotless remaining? Ah, not really because there’s no way in hell you’re spotless, Shubougane-chan. C’mon, just admit it already.” Kokichi widened his smile as much as he could. “You already did something like that before, haven’t you?”

Tsumugi sighed and sat on the couch opposite of him. “A-Are you egging me on for some type of response? Like how Momota-kun said you did when you accused him, Harukawa-san, and Yumeno-san of killing Saihara-kun just because you couldn’t find him yesterday morning? It’s not going to work, Ouma-kun.”

Kokichi forced himself to his feet. A searing, electrifying pain immediately shot through the soles of his feet, traveled up his shins, and shocked him directly in the knees. Through the pain, through the fire, he moved to the other side of the room, toward the wall. He felt Tsumugi’s eyes follow him. He had to drag his own body.

What if this was really the end? What if he was really starting to die? He felt so weak so suddenly for no damn reason. What if the motive was really starting to kill him? If he died with the details all blurry and the truth still obscured, then it was going to be harder on everyone. It was going to be harder on Shuichi.

On that thought, he made up his mind.

Kokichi’s body all but collapsed on the floor in front of the wall and he braced his hands against it. He turned his head to the side so he could gauge Tsumugi’s reaction from the cage of his arms. “No one can see us, right?” He whispered. “Of course not. Why would the Ringleader have cameras in their own hidden lair? If one of us ended up dying, no one would know, right?”

“I-I don’t know, Ouma-kun. H-H-How am I supposed to know these horrible things?”

“I dunno. Let’s test out that theory then.” He tilted his head to the side, pulling it back away from the wall and so he could flash his brilliant (yet wilting) grin clearly Tsumugi’s way. “I’m going to bang my head against this wall, you can say that you killed me, and then you can escape the Academy. How about that?”

Tsumugi shot up to her feet. “Ouma-kun, _no_! Why would you even do something so crazy?!”

“Don’t you want to escape? This is the perfect opportunity. If you’re not the Ringleader, this is obviously an once-in-a-lifetime chance you can’t pass up. You have someone on the verge of death offering to kill themselves to help you escape. You don’t even have to do any dirty work~! And you’re so plain and uninteresting that you don’t even have to say anything during the class trial. Just let them think you killed me and then reveal that I actually killed myself after they vote. Or… we could do the opposite. I can kill myself, make everyone think you killed me, make them all come after you. I already have a concussion. I’m… already dying. I just need to… to slam my fucking skull against this wall, and I’m a goner.”

“O-Ouma, don’t—!” She tried to take a step towards him. He held his head back further. She stopped in her tracks.

“Then prove it. Prove that you’re not the Ringleader.”

“W-Why should I be? That doesn’t make any sense!” Kokichi thought about Shuichi. The detective would see right through it while the other idiots would most likely be convinced if he executed this plan in a convincing enough manner. And it followed through with his previous thinking: he would kill himself before his illness could – and he had a scary foreboding sense that it was soon. “O-Ouma-kun, d-don’t cry… It’s worthless.” “Worthless.” “Useless.” It was such an odd word. Kokichi must have misheard her.

Kokichi shook his head. “I finally caught the Ringleader and I’m too worthless to do shit about it…” He originally thought that his emotions were the one single thing he could control in the killing game, and then he thought it was his ability to master both lying and the truth – but in actuality it was his life. The last thing he ever thought he would have control over in a life or death game was his life. And he didn’t even realize it until the very last moment. “Really, Shirogane-chan, I can kill myself or you can kill me, keep my body in this cozy little hidden room, and then you can do whatever you want with it. It’s a deal absolutely worth taking.”

“H-Hey, look at the camera!” She pointed ahead of her at a monitor that was out of Kokichi’s field of sight. He looked at a monitor on the opposite wall. The smoke was beginning to clear up.

“What is this, an attempt to get me distracted so that you can strike?”

“No. I would never do such a thing. It looks like Iruma-san is about to strike though…” The aforementioned girl was barely visible through the slowly dissipating smoke. Kokichi could just make out that she was setting up some sort of trap in the dormitory. _Shuichi_. _The nightmares_. He couldn’t do anything about it. He was practically paralyzed and on the verge of unconsciousness. “We can’t just watch Iruma-san hurt one of our friends. We have to do something.” Tsumugi was already going to the door.

“Go.” Kokichi slowly slumped against the wall. This image of Tsumugi was going to be burned into the back of his eyelids forever. “I know you’re the mastermind,” he breathed out, “and I’m gonna tell everybody.” It was a fight just to keep his eyelids open. He could see her pause though, before she turned around and walked right in front of him. She was already a tall girl, but with himself curled up against the wall like this, she towered over him. It wasn’t like he wasn’t at her mercy before. It just wasn’t as suffocating as it was now.

“This season’s gone to shit from the get-go,” she muttered. She lifted her foot up. It only took one kick for her to crush his skull against the wall.

∴

_“Which one is this one?”_

_“A survivor, sir.”_

_“From that cult or whatever? What status is this one?”_

_“This is the one in critical condition, I’m afraid.”_

_“What’s he got?”_

_“Head trauma for sure. Brain hemorrhage possibly but that’s worst case scenario.”_

_“Vitals?”_

_“Low. Everything’s low. Temperature, blood pressure, pulse, respiratory rate. He’s been unconscious since he’s arrived and we haven’t been able to revive him.”_

_“That’s why I’m here to take over.”_

∴

Kokichi could hear it. It was spoken like a single word but it was made up of different characters. Too many. He then heard more whisperings.

“He’s not going to recognize himself by that name anymore.”

“Right, right. Ouma Kokichi-san, can you hear me?” He felt his eyelids twitch and tighten. “That’s better than nothing…”

∴

It must have been a day after Kokichi was able to open his eyes for longer than a couple minutes at a time again. He was swallowed up into a hug all of a sudden. The embrace was too much, too close, too soon. “Ah, Ouma-kun, I-I’ve been waiting so long. You don’t know how relieved I was when the doctors finally revived you. Just, y-y-you were the weakest out of all of us when we got out and you wouldn’t wake up a-and I was so scared. O-Oh. Sorry.” He must’ve just noticed how one-sided the hug was. “I’m sorry,” he repeated as he backed away.

“You should be,” Kokichi mumbled. He resettled himself in his sheets. “Who are you anyway?”

“Ouma-kun,” the boy shakily smiled, “s-stop joking around.”

“Why would I joke around with some weirdo stranger that randomly hugs people?”

The other boy’s mouth opened, closed, opened again, closed again before he suddenly bowed, apologized again, and left.

∴

It must have been the next day. Kokichi could hold his head up for a few minutes at a time before it got exhausting. Enough to peep outside of his window. He was decently high up, in the clouds, on level with the taller buildings that surrounded the surely urban hospital.

 _He_ came back. The boy. The stranger. He didn’t say a word, didn’t look at him. He just set some flowers on the nightstand (baby blue, forget-me-nots). Set some balloons beside them (deep purple, typical “get well soon” message). And some cards.

One card was signed from Yumeno Himiko, saying that his name should be Ouma “Daikichi” because he’s “big lucky” for surviving and figuring everything out. One was from Harukawa Maki, a simple “get well soon” with a crude doodle of a thumbs up. One was from Momota Kaito and through the atrocious handwriting, he also wished Kokichi to get well soon. And the last was from Saihara Shuichi, and if Kokichi allowed himself to overthink it, it read more like a timid love letter rather than a get well soon note like the others, filled with careful sappy wishes and wavering strokes.

“Who are these people?” Kokichi asked. But the boy was already gone.

∴

It must have been a week or two before he could move confidently again. It was baby steps, _lots_ of baby steps, but Kokichi was determined to not be bedridden or wheelchair bounded. From one of the nurses’ recommendations, he stretched his legs out around the ward of the hospital he was on. He had his IV stand beside him, dragging alongside him like a fire extinguisher and being utilized as a cane, as he slowly made his round.

“Hey, Mommy, it’s _him_!” It was some kid. Brunette, bright eyed. The kid was pointing his little grubby finger right at him, so there was no mistaking Kokichi was the “him” the kid was referring to. “Mommy, Mommy, remember him? He’s the guy from TV!”

The kid’s mother hissed out his name. “It is rude to point at people. Apologize.” The kid let out a slow apology and the mother followed up with a quicker one before they disappeared down the hall.

The kid saw him on TV, huh? One of his nurses mentioned there being a TV room on the floor somewhere. He dragged his feet in the direction it could be in and by some miracle he found it. It was a room tucked away into the corner at the end of the hall where Kokichi understood that the elderly patients typically resided. Speaking of which, there were four elders all lined up in a row on faded, worn sitting chairs leaking stuffing from the cushion with half eaten food trays on one side of the chair arms and balloons tied to the wrists on the other. They all shifted their eyes to Kokichi when he stepped into the room. He tried his best to ignore the all-knowing gazes they were boring into the side of his head.

The news was on, showcasing a convenient broadcast of a story about five survivors of a “killing game” orchestrated by “Shirogane Tsumugi” and a cult on the run that called themselves “Team Danganronpa.” The status on the survivors was at first undetermined, then three were reported to be in good physical condition while one was in fair condition being implanted with a virus during the game and the other who was previously in critical condition was confirmed to be on their way to recovery. No pictures of the survivors came up on the screen as to be expected. Just the late Ringleader. A simple, plain girl with a sweet smile and glasses.

A nurse came into the room and shut the TV off. The elders all groaned in unison. “Hey, now. Your time in the television room is up. You can’t just sit here and watch TV all day.”

∴

It must have been about a week later, when Kokichi’s legs were no longer the equivalent of wet noodles but popsicle sticks and his eyes had grown to endure both the fluorescent lights of the hospital and slowly but surely the sunlight too.

He was in a library with a more comfortable setting on its lighting next door from the hospital. He was supposed to be there for a group trauma therapy session or something or another. In reality it was more of a disaster. He had to be escorted to the library because there were people with cameras surrounding the apartment complex just across the street from the library and hospital. Kokichi had asked the guards if there was some type of celebrity residing in the apartments. One of the murmured that it was something like that.

When Kokichi was sure that absolutely no one was taking the group session seriously – right up to the therapist who seemed to be more preoccupied with whatever was going on with their cellphone – he crept away from his assigned seat in the circle and looked around.

He went to the nearest bookshelf and took down the book that was closest to his eye level. The words were a little blurry. Kokichi was never told if he needed glasses or not. He shut the book and tried reaching out for another one. He needed some form of entertainment until the nurses came to collect everybody again.

And then he saw _him_. That boy. The stranger. The gift giver. Holding a book, shaking his head, and replacing it back on the shelf. And then he looked up, and they locked eyes, and Kokichi tripped over his own feet. The boy immediately rushed over. He looked flustered. “Are you okay? Did you hit your head again?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine. You don’t need to mother hen me.” And the boy paused, bit his lip, shook his head, and then walked away.

Kokichi figured that it was most likely because he thought that he was pathetic for being so sick, so injured, so helpless, ad hiding away in the books and having hands that caught the chills for no reason. He returned to the books.

∴

It must have been about two or more so weeks before Kokichi was moved to the in-patient ward. He brought the (dead) flowers and (deflated) balloons and the cards (from the unknown) with him to his new room. He didn’t have much else to his name. (And according to what the doctors and nurses said when he woke up, he didn’t even own the name “Ouma Kokichi” either.)

Everything about his new bathroom was smaller. From the bathtub to the shower to the toilet to the sink to the mirror. He pushed his hair out of the way of his forehead. There was a scabbed over cut in the center of it. The doctors said he obtained it by falling from a floor up and sustaining most of the damage to his head and chest. It explained the bruise in the center of his sternum too. There was also a mark on his side, a bruise right in between his bottom ribs, from a fight according to the doctors. Another event that he had absolutely no recollection of. Yet he had heard so many stories and allowed his head to be stuffed up with so many explanations and treatment didn’t seem to be working. What was he supposed to do? The path seemed long and hopeless.

Kokichi gripped the edge of his sink. It looked like he had to take matters into his own hands if he wanted a speedy recovery.

∴

It must have been about a week before the boy visited him for the third time. He had a care package filled to the brim with things that Kokichi’s mind managed to register as his favorites, from snacks to drinks and even new clothes. Kokichi swung his feet on the edge of his bed as he watched him. “You must know me pretty well, huh? In order to get all this specific stuff for me.” The boy looked at him with wide eyes, like he had just noticed Kokichi for the first time.

“S-Sorry. I was told that you’re supposed to be in a group therapy session. I didn’t mean to bother you…”

“Yeah, but I skipped it. Those are so boooring.”

“Right...” The boy nodded and then he turned to leave.

“Hey!” He turned back around, hand still on the doorknob. “Thank you, Saihara-chan.”

“W-What did you just say?”

“Geez, I said ‘thank you, Saihara-chan.’ Did you get hearing problems since the last time I—?” Kokichi was engulfed in a hug that nearly knocked him over on the bed. This time he wrapped his arms back around Shuichi.

“I-I was so scared. _Everyone_ was so scared that you were going to forget us forever. A-And the bad thing is that it was probably better if you _did_ forget everything actually, but… a selfish part of me didn’t want you to forget about me.” Shuichi pulled back to look him in the eye. “H-How…?”

Kokichi tried to shrug it off. “I just took matters into my own hands. I snuck around every night and day to read up on as much about the killing game as I could. I put two and two together that I was in it based upon some stuff I discovered around here, like the news and the doctors’ words. And pretty soon the memories started falling into place, but I’m still an itsy, bitsy foggy on all of the details.” _Oh, God_. Shuichi was starting to cry.

“K-Kaito-kun was in the hospital too long, because of that virus and… I was so scared that I was going to lose two more of my friends, just…” Kokichi had no words for that. He never was the person people went to for comfort. So he just moved his thumbs underneath Shuichi’s eyes and wiped away as many tears as he could. And Shuichi, ever the weirdo, was smiling.

∴

It must have been all night that they spent talking to one another. Kokichi admitted that, when he was still in a coma, he had some type of dream of being kicked in the head by Tsumugi. Shuichi said he doesn’t think that that was true. (Keyword: “think.”) What _is_ true though is that Gonta, Miu, and Kiibo were gone. Faint flashes echoed in Kokichi’s mind, of the harsh sputters around the way that Miu managed to turn any word monosyllabic, of Gonta’s soft coos to his somehow tamed butterflies, of Kiibo’s scattered hushed words of reassurance that were always at the ready.

“I-I have no way of confirming what happened with you and Shirogane,” Shuichi said. “I didn’t watch the footage back of the game. I can’t bear myself to. It’s… too painful. B-But, I have been doing some investigating on ‘Team Danganronpa’ and I managed to find some sort of database that’s theirs. I’m… not exactly the _best_ with computers but, um, I’m slowly but surely gathering information on them.”

“What does Saihara-chan think then, being the Ultimate Detective?”

“I don’t know. About being the ‘Ultimate Detective,’ I mean. We’re just ordinary people. Even Shirogane. But, from what I’ve read from the files in the database, she seems to be the most delusional member of the team. She definitely deserved the title of Ringleader. Ah, it’s getting late, I should probably get going. It may get, um, overwhelming if I tell you too much at once.”

“Where’s Saihara-chan going?”

“Oh, just to this apartment complex by the library. Kaito-kun and I share one room and then Maki-san and Himiko-san share another.”

“‘Kaito-kun,’ ‘Maki-san,’ ‘Himiko-san.’ When did _that_ happen? Ooh, and you just said ‘Shirogane’ and nothing else too.”

Shuichi shrugged. “I decided not to use honorifics for those who don’t deserve to be ‘honored.’ And Kaito-kun insisted that we’re all going to be on a first name basis if we’re going to live together, but I made a sort of comprise by still using honorifics with everyone because it’s all sort of sudden.”

“Awww, everybody got so close together and all buddy-buddy without me.” Kokichi painted on his best pout.

“Ah, well, we can do that too if you want.” Kokichi blinked. Shuichi blinked back.

“Okay, I guess… Shuichi-chan.” He sounded out the name as if it was foreign, as if he wanted to taste and let every single syllable loiter on his tongue.

“Kokichi,” Shuichi nodded.

“Oh. Do you not like me? I didn’t hear an honorific there.”

“Maybe so.” Shuichi laughed. “C-Can I… spend the night here?”

“I’ve been waiting so long for you to ask, God.”

∴

They woke up together the next day. Shuichi managed to squeeze into the bed (or was it more accurate to say that Kokichi was the one squeezed in since he was smaller?) and he had an arm slung over Kokichi’s middle, his fingers fitted against the small of his back.

“Don’t you feel weird?” Kokichi whispered into the atmosphere.

“I… do and don’t know what you mean at the same time. I, um,” he deflected his eyes away, “feel like we narrowly escaped with our lives, and… I shouldn’t have been the one who survived. So many of our friends deserve so much more than me, I-I…”

“Don’t say that.” Shuichi reconnected their eyes again.

“S-Sorry, I can’t help it. S-Sometimes the, um, the thoughts get to me, especially when you and Kaito-kun were still in pretty bad condition.”

“We’re not in bad condition anymore, right? Speaking of which, what’s the plan when I get out of here?”

“Ah, I don’t know actually. I feel like I’m researching everything I can on Shirogane, and then eventually those reporters are going to lose interest and move on to the next hot issue, and then hopefully there won’t be any more killing games in the future. We’re, um, trying to see if we can reach out to our families but it’s proving pretty difficult. It’s hard to obtain our previous identities and no one is reaching back to us. It’s like we’ve… been wiped off the face of the Earth. For now we’ve been receiving aid to live in the apartment, but that’s not going to last forever. And I’m not sure what kind of job would want to hire people like us. I don’t even know our technical levels of education, if we’ve even graduated high school yet—”

Kokichi pressed his finger against Shuichi’s lips. “Shuichi-chan needs to stop worrying. There’s no worrywarts allowed in this hospital.”

“That’s… a bit of an oxymoron.”

“Shh, shh. Listen.” Kokichi slowly took his finger away. There was nothing but quiet. Bed peace. “Do you hear that? I don’t hear any worries.”

“I… wasn’t expecting for you to be the type to enjoy the sound of silence.”

“Well, now we’re going to discover a lot about ourselves. We have an entire future ahead of us or whatever—isn’t that the corny stuff people say when they’re getting on with their lives and whatnot?” Shuichi was giving him a weird look. Their noses brushed against each other. It was just making him feel more and more antsy. “Goood, Shuichi-chan, _do something already_. You’re being so weeeird.” Shuichi… kissed him on the nose. “Oh. Wow. Talk about anticlimactic.”

“W-What?”

“You were supposed to go full mouth back when I said your name for the first time earlier. My memory may have gone to shit, but I’ve seen enough of those cheesy movies to know that when one person remembers the other, they kiss all dramatically.” Kokichi scrunched his lips up and made a bunch of loud kissy noises. Shuichi groaned. “Aww, d-does S-Shuichi-chan just want to kiss me on the nose like a grandma forever?” Kokichi welled up some tears. “H-H-How boooring. What did I do to deserve this?!”

“S-Stop it.” Shuichi wiped the tears away. Kokichi almost jolted back against the side of the bed. What an unnecessary touch. Shuichi knew good and well by now that he could make tears appear and disappear at command like magic. He moved his hand up to take Shuichi’s wrist and move it aside. Shuichi’s fingers still nestled against his cheek. Kokichi dropped his wrist. He leaned in again, obviously not for the nose, and just barely brushed their lips together. He was so nervous, Kokichi could feel him tremble. He couldn’t help but smile yet he suppressed a laugh before it could slipped out. “H-How was that?” Shuichi whispered.

“I know Shuichi-chan can do better. C’mon.” Shuichi moved his hand against Kokichi’s shoulder, as if he was steadying himself, before he moved in again. The touch was still nervous but it was more definite, more sure. Kokichi could feel his fingers curl on to his shoulder. The touch must have been subconscious. They both inhaled slowly through their noses, breathing each other in, before they parted. Shuichi’s eyes were slit, only the amber flecks that always got lost in the pools of grayness remained.

Too much, too soon, but somehow just right.

∴

They must have said goodbye to each other at least five or so times, interrupted again and again by more and more kisses laughably against the nose again, seriously against the lips – the contours, the upper, the bottom, everywhere.

Once Shuichi finally, finally left, Kokichi looked back at his room. He guessed that there were some things to get in order. It wasn’t exactly acceptable to allow his room to turn in a landfill. He tossed the dead flowers and the deflated balloons, but he kept the cards and the care package. He never got a really good look at the stuff before now that he thought about it. He shifted through the items and pulled them all out one by one on the bed until he reached the bottom of the box.

He felt his body freeze for a moment. He could remember before that something was always dangling above his head, always out of reach. It was always something unreachable before, unattainable. But it didn’t jump away when he tried to touch it anymore. It was _there_ , it was allowing itself to be grabbed. _Finally_.

“Ah, I understand now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> > _“v3_final_draft.doc” has been sent!  
>  thank you for your contribution to team danganronpa.  
> please wait…_


	6. PART ? OF PART III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> end of symptoms for “concussion.”  
> now loading symptoms for “second impact syndrome.”

“To look back over the case: Harukawa-san, Iruma-san, and Ouma-kun were the only ones who lost the game of Monoulette and thus received punishment. They were locked in their respective rooms all night and subjected to about two hours of being pushed to the brink of hypothermia, then heat exhaustion, nearly deafening noise, debilitating silence, and then exclusive, personalized images on the television screen. Harukawa-san received a video of her childhood, um, winter lake home and the orphanage she grew up in, Ouma-kun received a video of the members of his organization and—” _me_ “—a-and, uh, Iruma-san received a video of her car accident and the outside world. We can assume that this conglomeration of torture got to her and drove her to utilize the tools she had in her room in the dormitory to create three smoke grenades.

“Iruma-san waited until we all were in the cafeteria for breakfast. Since Ouma-kun also received punishment, he took his time to leave his room also. When Iruma-san tried to leave her room Ouma-kun was also leaving his at the same time. She argued with him before going back into her room again. A little while after Ouma-kun came into the cafeteria, she set off her first smoke grenade and everyone ran away in different directions. Ouma-kun and Shirogane-san went to the girls’ bathroom on the first floor, Momota-kun, Harukawa-san, and I went to Akamatsu-san’s research lab on the second floor, and Yumeno-san, Kiibo-kun, and… originally Gonta-kun went to the gym. After Iruma-san assumedly lost track of Ouma-kun—her original target—she released another grenade and went to her research lab, my research lab, and Harukawa-san’s lab to create a trap. Her trap involved tripwire that she set in the entrance of the dormitory that triggered a cage to fall containing arrows from Harukawa-san’s lab that were coated in poison from my lab. She… released another smoke grenade when Gonta-kun decided to leave the gym because he was afraid that one of us could fall victim to her and wanted to find us and protect us. And unfortunately, that victim was him…

“But, Gonta-kun managed to prevent her from causing any more havoc. He had avoided the tripwire when he entered the dormitory so Iruma-san came out of hiding and tried to jump from the top of the stairs to push him into it. She accidentally got her leg caught in the cage and was trapped. The first ones to find them were Kiibo-kun and Yumeno-san because they were concerned with Gonta-kun not returning to the gym like he had promised. Once the smoke started to clear, due to Iruma-san not being able to set off her last grenade, Momota-kun, Harukawa-san, and I decided to leave and we discovered everyone in the dormitory. The body discovery announcement played, meaning that Iruma-san was excluded from being one of the three people that discovered the body and Shirogane-san appeared. She said that she hid in the bathroom and did not know where Ouma-kun was. Because of the, um, _nature of the crime_ , I decided to take a chance and cut the investigation in half to look for Ouma-kun. I found him in the girls’ restroom, the same restroom where the Ringleader’s hidden room resides. He had managed to open the door before losing consciousness.”

“Okay,” Maki murmured, eyes down. “What are you leading this all up to?”

“I was reviewing the previous case so that we could remember everyone’s alibis because I found this.” Shuichi took the cursed object from out of his pocket. It was a shot put ball with a few pink threads stuck to it. “I will like to retry a case—the first trial. Akamatsu-san is _not guilty_ and was wrongly executed.”

∴

“How can you trust Ouma-kun’s word over mine? He’s plain delusional!”

“It doesn’t matter if he’s ‘delusional’ or not, Shirogane-san. He saw what he saw. Just…” Shuichi clutched his hands on to the sides of his podium until his knuckles turned white. “J-Just give it up already. We know the truth. It’s over.”

Tsumugi blinked. Once, twice. Then she shrugged. “I guess it is over.” She crossed her arms over her stomach and turned her nose up at them. “I guess it _is_ over,” she repeated, slowly, lowly. “I think I’ve written myself into a corner here, haven’t I? A writer’s worst nightmare.”

“H-Huh?”

She threw her hands out suddenly and wiggled her fingers. “Guess what this is!” She said with a smile.

“You want me to guess—huh?” Shuichi looked over at his friends. Kiibo was still worryingly stoic without his antenna, Maki was shooting daggers at Tsumugi with her eyes, Kaito and Himiko had matching looks of confusion, and Kokichi was still slumped over his podium. Shuichi was unsure if he was asleep or not. If he was asleep, he definitely deserved it. “Guess what?”

“What is this exactly?”

“It’s… ‘ _Danganronpa_.’”

“Hm…” She folded her arms over herself again. “You said it like you don’t believe it. How am I supposed to move the story along without supporting dialogue?”

Her word choice. “Writer,” “story,” “dialogue.” Shuichi moved his hand to his chin. “You’re still insisting that we’re just these ‘characters’ that you came up with?”

“I’m not ‘insisting’ anything. It’s the truth—plain and simple!” She threw her hands up again with a laugh. Shuichi thought he had gotten used to the newfound emptiness in her eyes once she presented her true form, but no – he felt like more and more holes were being bored into his skin by the second. “You see, I’ll just outright say it since you don’t seem to be getting the bigger picture. This,” she swung her finger around, “is just an alternative route, if you will.”

“An… ‘alternative route’?”

“Yes, yes. You see, when I was writing this season out I decided to do something new. Usually _Danganronpa_ is a singular route kind of thing. The story goes one way and stays that way. Since I’m the head of this season, I decided to try something different. I decided to create a plotline that branches out. I provided multiple alternative routes for many scenarios so that I could really bring out the excitement for this game! I created this formula that lets things happen by random chance and then whatever happens, happens. For example: the prognosis for concussions are generally considered positive, but there’s always a fifty-fifty chance that the condition can worsen though—and since there’s such a high chance, I had to throw it into the formula!”

“A-Are you…” _This is insanity_. “Are you implying that we’re… we’re…”

“How about I finish so that you can complete that thought with confidence, okay?” She clasped her hands together as more and more words gushed out. “When I was writing this though, the thing was I was unsure on was what to do with the ending. In my mind there’s only a few ways that a route with a concussed Ouma-kun can go: he can snap while trying to protect you and end up killing you in the process, or his nightmares could come true and you could end up dying that way, or someone could kill someone else and then Ouma-kun’s fears are for naught. And I kept thinking, what would give the most satisfying ending though?” She tapped her fingers against her chin. “I can only think of _Danganronpa 3_ ’s Final Killing Game that had one _yandere_ aspect of a girl killing her boyfriend before he could ‘betray’ her, and that seemed like an interesting thing to do too—having one character kill another off before their relationship could take off. All of those possibilities were too good to pass up!” Her mouth was salivating. “So I sketched out each scenario to see which one was best! And then I also thought, maybe having a second protagonist die would be too much? Especially with such an important talent like ‘Ultimate Detective’ too. An Ultimate Detective has never killed or been murdered directly by the hands of another participant before…”

“Shirogane-chan, shut up already.” Kokichi was squishing his cheek against his podium, eyes still half-closed. “Geez, we get it already. We’re not real—blah, blah, blah. It’s getting really, really, really old. I’m so over it, God.” Even his whines had a sleepy edge around them. “I wanna change the topic. How about, um… Uh…” His eyes were already fluttering shut again.

“Ouma, stop talking,” Maki muttered.

“No, no, no, it just came back to me, I swear. Ooh okay. Is Shirogane-chan saying she, like, mastered creating alternate universes or something? I guess I can call you Kamigane-chan now.”

“To put it in layman’s terms, yes.” Shirogane nodded. “Do you understand what I’m saying now, Saihara-kun?”

“You’re saying that… this is just some ‘alternate reality.’ We’re just… some sort of ‘bad ending.’”

“Precisely. Well, I wouldn’t say ‘bad ending.’ I would say this is more of a ‘what could have happened.’ What would happen if you paid a little more attention to Ouma-kun? What would happen if Ouma-kun bumped his head just a little too hard? What would happen if Iruma-san decided to conduct a murder in the real world instead of a virtual one? The scenarios go on and on. And now it’s over. I’m done.” She leaned against her podium and tapped her finger against the side of her head. “I don’t think the board is going to accept this one. I’m sure I violated some codes of conduct with the Monoulette motive I implemented. It’s plain mean. I think I’ll just scrap this entirely actually.”

“I—what?” At least she wasn’t doing rapid fire costume changes anymore. “Shirogane-san, just—”

“Just what? ‘Stop it already.’ ‘Give up already.’ Don’t you see? We’re stuck in a loop. I’ve already said I’ve written myself into a corner.”

“I… I can’t accept that.”

“Yes, I know. I wrote you that way.”

“God, stop fucking saying that!” Kaito slammed his hands against the podium. He was already weak, already caught a coughing spell at the beginning of the trial. _God_ , Shuichi thought. Kokichi and Kaito were practically falling apart. How was he supposed to end this when he was literally talking to a brick wall as the world watched and laughed at him? “Shirogane, give it up already! Let us go!”

“Oh? You want me to let you go? Be careful what you wish for because you just might get it, you know.” Her eyes began to roam around the courtroom as if she had already lost interest in the conversation. “Everything is not what it seems, you know.”

“Huh? Why the fuck do you keep speakin’ in riddles? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that everything is not what it seems,” Tsumugi repeated with a shrug. “Akamatsu-san didn’t seem like the type to kill, did she? Amami-kun either. You see, there was this moment in _Danganronpa V2_ when he would walk around with a razor underneath his tongue and he—ooh! I think I said too much! _V2_ is going to be old news by the time _V3_ breaks out anyway.”

“What are you talking about?” Himiko said. “I-I thought that _V3_ was already ‘out.’ A-Aren’t we doing it right now?”

“Yes and no. Right now we’re riding off of a possibility. I’ll break it down into the simplest terms I can, alright?” She held up her hand and tallied off her fingers. “I write _everything_ from beginning to end, even the possibilities of what could happen. This is just an alternative route—just what _could_ happen, not what _will_ happen. I submit all of my files to Team Danganronpa’s database and they review them, see if it’s up to our standards and don’t break any violations. And then I carefully plan out every scenario—”

“Shirogane-san—”

“Saihara-kun, are you just going to tell me to ‘stop’ again? That I’m not making sense again?” She sighed.

Shuichi heard Kaito mutter, “We should’ve let Kiibo finish fucking blowing this place to the ground,” and Shuichi actually felt a part of him agree. It would have been the easy way out though. A way out without the answers he needed and the justice that Kaede deserved. He needed to take Tsumugi down by any and all means necessary.

“Sure, that would have helped you escape the Academy but not the killing game.” Tsumugi shrugged.

“I’m getting tired of your nonsense,” Maki said. “I’m getting tired of listening to you repeat yourself. It’s _over_. I’m done talking. Saihara,” she turned to him, “let’s just kill her already, get the robot to blow a hole in the wall, and get out of here.”

“I’m…” _Tsumugi is right_. “It’s not that simple.”

“Shirogane killed Amami and pretended it was Akamatsu and she’s with some asshole group that put us up to this. What more do you want? There’s literally nothing else new to say. We just keep recycling the same information over and over again. How long do you plan for us to talk in circles?” All the focus shifted on Shuichi. Even Kokichi, eyes completely glazed over with exhaustion, was looking at him with tired expectancy.

“Until I-I… Until I understand _what_ exactly is going on, and _why_. T-This doesn’t make any sense.” No matter how many times Shuichi could possibly force his head to wrap around the situation, he was getting nothing, nothing, nothing. Drawing blank after blank after blank. He clutched his hand over his heart. An all too familiar pain subsided there. He felt so angry and so sad for Kaede, for all of his friends that had to suffer for no reason. “T-That’s all I want,” Shuichi slowly said. “ _Why_? What is this and why would you want to do this?”

Tsumugi raised an eyebrow. “I’m afraid that I can’t answer the ‘why,’ but I have answered the ‘what’ over and over again. I just wanted to see what would happen.” She shrugged again. “That’s all.”

“I don’t get it,” Kokichi murmured.

“What is there not to get?”

“Aren’t you wasting your precious time, Shirogane-chan? Don’t you have better things to do than to toy with our lives and see what _could_ happen? Isn’t it kinda…” A slow smile crept on to his face despite the obvious pain that it hurt Shuichi to see him in. “ _Useless_?”

“No. This _is_ my life. _Danganronpa_ is my life.” The shadows under her eyes darkened. “I eat, sleep, and breathe this program. It’s my everything. If _Danganronpa_ didn’t exist, I would be living a meaningless existence. If _Danganronpa_ was taken away from me, there would be no point for me to go on. I put my blood, sweet, and tears into this! I spent so many hours, so many sleepless nights and long days just putting countless scenarios of what could go wrong and what will go wrong, just _thinking_. I had to split my brain apart to create this! I had to listen to so many people critique me, say this and say that, over and over and over again. I’ve been picked apart and then put back together again just to make this. I’ve been through Hell and back just to make this. And I’ll never stop. _Danganronpa_ will never, ever die—not as long as I’m around to keep it living all because it keeps _me_ living!

“And you know what? Since this is most likely going to be nothing more than an unused file, I’ll tell you what the verdict is for this route, okay? It was surprising actually, all the positive feedback I got, even despite the fact that there’s a few holes, like: how did Iruma-san manage to go to three research labs in complete smoke and construct a trap in record time? What’s the situation with Ouma-kun ‘discovering’ the hidden room and me as the Ringleader? How do you know what everyone saw in the Final Dead Hours during their Monoulette punishments? How did Ouma-kun have enough energy to open the hidden room’s door when he was clearly on his last few breaths? And why is he here now and how did he manage to get everyone out of here? And haven’t you noticed that the writing is beginning to dwindle down to something minimalistic and pile up with contradictions? There’s practically no substance to it anymore. Why? Because it’s the end. Ooh, but people just eat you two up—Saihara-kun, Ouma-kun. But not enough. This is the second most popular story. I’m afraid that ultimately people prefer for Saihara-kun to just not notice Ouma-kun and for Ouma-kun to have a stronger influence altogether. I believe that _Danganronpa_ has a theme of having a lack of official relationships but many characters who pine after one another so that it will be easier for the audience to implant their own thinking, create their own alternative routes and theories and stories and whatnot. But anyways… I’ve given my all to this, and I expect you all to do the same. Let’s give it everything we got, you guys!”

Kokichi rolled his eyes. “Geez, Shirogane-chan. Do you really expect us to fall for that little monologue of yours?”

“I don’t know. I think you just might actually.”

“And I think you’re just the slightest, tiniest, itsy, wincy bit out of your mind.” He yawned. “Just wait ‘til we break out of here. You’re really gonna start regretting this then.”

“Maybe, but, hey… do you understand now, Ouma-kun?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> > _thank you for playing!  
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